Smoke in Mirrors
by TheHarlequinRevolver
Summary: A grief ridden fem-boss named Liz tries to cope with the loss of Gat and how it affects the Saints and herself. Set directly after Johnny dies. Slight BossXGat. This isn't my first fanfic, and this isn't a Mary Sue character. Please R&R!
1. The Day

Hey guys, I'm sorry I haven't really continued any stories lately. However, this was something I just typed up. It may or may not be a oneshot, but if I want to continue it, I will. This is the same character that appears in I Never Meant to Cause you Trouble.

Please leave feedback, or else I won't write any more...

* * *

><p>Liz had sworn that she'd never see any of her lieutenants die.<p>

After Carlos, she didn't want to bear any more of it. It wasn't just to keep her gang's image clean, of course.

She didn't want anyone else to see her emotions crack again.

As she lifted her head from her pillow, she realized how she broke this tightly locked promise.

It was a cold December morning, and after recalling what had happened the night before, she didn't think she would be able to face what was going to happen today.

It was December 14th; the day of Johnny Gat's funeral.

After realizing that she had woken up fifteen minutes late, she cursed silently under her breath. This wasn't a day she thought would come in the near future at all.

Quite frankly, she thought Gat would be the one coming to her own funeral.

After running a hand quickly through her fiery hair, she looked around her old Stilwater apartment. It was one of the few places left in the city she could go without being surrounded by cops or Saints. All of her other properties were frequently crashed by her fellow gang members. It was an obligation of hers; she _had_ used the gang money to buy the expensive cribs her homies hung out in. However, this apartment of hers was the only true thing she owned solely by herself. Nobody else could come in unless she told them she could, and she preferred to keep it that way.

It had been a long time since she had actually stayed here for more than a night. Everyone else had been staying the night at the Purgatory. As much as Liz would have liked to stay there, something had told her to stay far away from it. It wasn't exactly the bad smell or the strippers that populated it, either.

Memories of Johnny and her in the Saints' own night club quickly began to flood her mind, and she realized why she hadn't stayed. The drinks they had shared and the spells they had sat and planned every Ronin attack in that place seemed infinite.

As she made her way to her small bathroom, she carefully pulled a blunt that Shaundi had rolled for her the other day. She had figured her boss needed the time to unwind, and although she had left her bohemian druggie persona behind, now seemed to be the one little time to bring it back. Liz's thoughts only continued to wander as the smoke billowed everywhere in the confined room.

"Smoke in mirrors…" she mumbled to herself. She blew a small cloud of smoke directly into the mirror before looking at her slowly aging face. "That's what it was…"

Regardless of how wasted she would ever get, she knew Johnny's death would never be smoke in mirrors. It was getting real, and until that casket dropped into the ground, she could do whatever she wanted to convince herself that her best friend was still truly breathing.

She wouldn't accept it.

Not in a million years.


	2. Behind her Eyes

**Thanks for the reviews! I'd love to see more...they motivate me a lot. So, here's the next chapter.**

* * *

><p>A bright purple Bootlegger pulled into the small driveway of the Boss' Stilwater apartment. Considering the gang the car was affiliated with, it had arrived calmer than one would expect.<p>

A shorter woman appeared out of the car. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, which was quite a change from the ponytail or even the tangled dreads she used to have. Her outfit was ridiculously conservative than it usually was, too. Instead of low rise pants and heeled boots, a modest black dress covered her body. She looked down at her purple pumps and lightly knocked on the door of the older building. "How could she still live _here_?" she asked herself silently.

The door opened to reveal a tall woman. She tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear as she looked at Shaundi with absolute remorse.

"Boss, you know this isn't your fault…" the former druggie told the person in front of her. She couldn't even keep count of the times she had told her this. No matter what she seemed to say, the Boss still felt like the death of their second in command was all her fault. "It wasn't like you were able to protect him." She continued.

The redhead in front of her scowled at the thought of protecting Johnny Gat.

"He never needed protection." she replied. Promptly, Liz zipped up leather jacket so it covered most of her dress and strode over to the car. She opened the driver door to reveal another one of her close friends and lieutenants: Pierce Washington. His suit was no longer a grayish-white. It had changed into a sorrowful charcoal.

Pierce looked up at the woman with a light frown on his face. He had to admit, she was pretty good looking in a dress and leather jacket, but her face was more different than usual. Instead of its usual scowl, her mouth was turned down into a horrible grimace. Countless dark circles were under her eyes despite her futile attempts to cover them up with makeup. Her eyes were darkened by smoky eye shadow, and her grimacing lips were shade of pink that was too light for her pale skin.

Even though she looked nice on the outside, it was obvious that this was killing her on the inside.

"Pierce…I'm driving." she mumbled. Her voice lacked the force it had always possessed. Pierce opened his mouth to protest, but even _he _knew better than to challenge the Boss. Reluctantly, he got out of the car and took the shotgun seat. His fellow lieutenant took the backseat.

* * *

><p>Liz tried her hardest not to drive as recklessly as she usually did. Her terrible attempts at stopping at the red lights failed; she blew every single one that came in her path. It was her own strange way of coping with everything that had happened in the past few months. If she hit the side of a car or flew through a stop sign, it calmed her down more than one would expect.<p>

It wasn't just Johnny's death that was making her thoughts and actions cave in on her. Everything seemed to have gone down the toilet when the Saints-Ultor Media Group came into formation. It seemed like a good business venture at the time, and the money that they gained made everyone ecstatic. However, for Johnny _and_ her, it didn't cut it.

Yes, it did make the Saints a household name. Kids approached her frequently to spew out reasons why they wanted to be gangbangers when they grew up. She had acquired everything she had set out for when she had first joined the notorious street gang: money, fame, and power.

As cliché as it sounded, it wasn't all that it cracked up to be. She had climbed the social ladder to become the number one girl in all of Stilwater. It was more grueling than she would have liked, but it had been pretty damn fun to achieve. She had gone from spraying tags on the sides of buildings to stealing toxic waste from nuke plants and taking out entire boats filled with weapons. Johnny had been there the whole time with her. Whenever she went to do something, he had been by her side. She couldn't say that he supported everything she did, but he was always there whether she liked it or not.

She had a feeling he wasn't in it for just the money, though.

Although they both seemed to have different motives for joining the Saints, their partnership as leader and second in command made the gang flourish in Stilwater. Everyone wanted to have a share in their name and their fame.

By the time they had partnered with Ultor, things began to change.

As these thoughts swam in her head, she couldn't help but think about what she could have done to save Gat. Everyone had told her that it wasn't her fault, and she knew that she would be the last ones to believe them. There had to be something she could have done.

_There had to be something she could have fixed…_

"Boss, what the hell are you doing? It's a green light! Are you high or somethin'?" Pierce yelled. Liz looked transfixed in her own world as she jerked her foot onto the gas pedal. Shaundi grabbed Pierce's seat in front of her, now regretting not wearing a seatbelt.

"She's out of her damn mind!" Pierce said quietly as she roughly turned a corner. Soon, Mourning Woods cemetery came into view, and many purple cars dotted the parking lot. Liz reluctantly took the turn to pull into the same lot. As she harshly pulled into the first free parking spot she saw, she thought about not even getting out of the car.

She could stay inside and not even acknowledge what had happened.

She didn't even have to see the casket or the body.

* * *

><p>Shaundi has already gotten out of the car and was striding over to the driver's side. Something was extremely wrong with Liz, and she had a feeling that nobody would be able to tell what it was. The main reason was obvious: Johnny. She couldn't help but think that there was something the Boss was hiding. She opened the door and looked at her friend, who was staring off into space. Liz definitely wasn't the spacey type, nor had she ever acted like this before.<p>

"You coming with us?" she asked. Liz turned her head and unstrapped her seatbelt. Hesitantly, she stepped out of the car and unzipped her jacket slightly.

"Yeah, I'm coming."


	3. Wilted Confidence

Wow...this was really hard for me to write. Thanks for the two or three people that reviews. It means a lot. _**Please, please PLEASE review more**_! I love reading them and I would like them to be as critical as possible. Thanks! I know this is short, but I wanted to break it up a lot...chapters will get longer soon.

* * *

><p>As notorious as the Saints were, the service was small. It was only slightly larger than Aisha's had been. Liz had said that she wanted to keep the actual funeral as small as possible. She had left the party up to Shaundi, which meant it was going to be huge.<p>

"He would have liked that…" she thought to herself as she stepped towards the small crowd of other important Saints who had shown up. Liz couldn't help but smile a little bit on the inside when she saw some of the people who had came. People she hadn't seen in years stood in the middle of the crowd, but she couldn't be bothered to greet them. As a few familiar faces looked up from the ground to see who had arrived, they didn't dare say a word. Nearly all of them gave Liz a nod or a grief filled frown before returning to stare at the ground. With Shaundi and Pierce by her side, they edged to the front of the crowd to pay their final respects.

The Boss folded her arms impatiently while her eyes wandered to the grave plot next to her best friend's. A marble headstone marked the place of Aisha's burial site. The redheaded girl closed her eyes for a moment and recalled the scene a few years ago. She had never seen Johnny so quiet or upset before.

It took her a moment to realize that she was now in the same shoes that he had been in.

She put a hand to her hot forehead and then returned her arms to their previous position as the pastor stepped into the crowd. Everyone was already silent, which was unusual for the normally rowdy bunch of people who had arrived. After clearing his throat awkwardly, the pastor pulled a small bible out of his pocket and began to read.

* * *

><p>Liz was never one to analyze things. They were the way they were, and nothing was going to change that unless she had a say in it. Never had she taken the time to sit down and really look at something.<p>

She acted impulsively almost twenty four seven.

However, something the pastor had said really began to make her think. Normally, the verses he uttered would have made absolutely no sense to her at all. It all seemed like complete rubbish until she actually stopped and listened to it.

Now it seemed to have a meaning higher than what she would be able to comprehend.

As the man closed the bible he had in his hand, he stepped back and allowed anyone who wanted to speak to come forward. An even darker silence fell over the crowd of Saints, all of whom were too scared to even say a word. They all turned to their leader in search of something to say.

They searched her eyes until she stepped forward.

She honestly didn't want to say anything. She was too afraid the only thing that would manage to come out were tears and useless emotions.

As she stood by the preacher and looked out to everyone, an even bigger wave of sadness came over her. Seeing everyone's emotions in shambles made her want to throw up. It was an unexplainable feeling that she had never had before. Never had the death of someone made her feel so disgusting.

It was as though her sadness had gone past the point of tears.

The Boss opened her mouth to speak, and once she did, she was no longer in control of what she could say.

"A few days ago, we lost someone. In fact, we've lost someone today, too. In the world we're in, people are in and out of our lives like that. Nobody lasts too long in this business. That's why it's important to listen to them…and don't take them for granted…"

She quietly closed her eyes, and many scenes flashed uncontrollably in front of her.

* * *

><p>"<em>Oh, you've gotta be fuckin' kidding me…" Johnny muttered as he looked up at the paint filled wall in front of him. This was most likely one of the stupidest things his good friend had asked him to do.<em>

_Here they were, in the middle of Stilwater, defacing the police department's back wall. It was a hellish plan, but so far, nothing seemed to have gone wrong._

_Unless you counted Liz's terrible art skills as something going wrong._

"_I'm not a damn artist! Chill out!" the woman said with a dark chuckle. A black bandana covered her head to hide her bright orange locks as she vandalized the wall in front of her. A bright purple and gold fleur-de-lis now covered the once untainted surface. She popped open a bottle of beer, and after taking a swig to warm up her throat, she handed it to the Asian man next to her. _

"_Good times, babe." he replied with a chuckle. She smiled back at him and watched as he took a swig that was even bigger than hers._

* * *

><p>Her eyes snapped open and she looked back out into the small mass of people standing in front of her. The flashback had only lasted a second, but it seemed to be so much longer.<p>

"Yeah, we've lost Johnny. He meant the world to me, and I'm sure as hell he meant something to you guys. You all know he wouldn't want us standin' here and moping around. He'd want us out kicking some ass!"

Everyone in the purple mass nodded quickly, and a few mustered up the courage to agree verbally.

As she quietly clenched her fists, she continued her speech.

"Let's show these Syndicate bastards what we're made of. We'll do it for Johnny." she said triumphantly. A hand glided over to her pocket and pulled out a .45 Sheppard. Her finger slid itself down to the silver trigger as she held the gun up to the dreary December sky. Her fellow Saints took out their own pistols and held them up just as she did, and fire after fire, then made sure to send Johnny Gat off with a bang.

"For Johnny…" the leader yelled.

On cue, the crowd erupted in unison.

"For Johnny!"


	4. Over the Line

**I'm sorry if this chapter is a little late. I read the reviews and I wrote a longer chapter, but it's going to take me a little while if you guys want longer stuff. This was already quite hard for me to write. I'm not sure if it's just because it's an action scene or not. _ Please read and review! It'll help me get feedback and I'll get the chapters up faster, I promise! You really have no idea how motivating reviews are...you really don't._ (And btw, this chapter is based on the first cutscene in the second act of the game)**

* * *

><p>Liz sat in the bright purple hearse while her hand supported her cheek. Her patience was wearing thin; traffic had been holding up the funeral procession, and they had just barely made it out of Stilwater. They had been <em>planning<em> on returning to Steelport for an afterparty, but at the rate they were going, they'd be lucky to make it out of their own city.

She sighed and rolled down her window. All car movement had completely seized, and a large mass of purple vehicles were stopped right in front of what appeared to be a bridge. She could swear that it hadn't been there since she had last visited Stilwater a while back. Even if it had been there the last time, it would be pretty hard for her to miss a massive steel cable bridge. After furrowing her brows, she leaned out of the car to see what had stopped their progress.

The Boss squinted and gripped the side of the door for balance. Who she saw nearly made her fall out of the car.

"You've gotta be shittin' me…" she mumbled as she sat back in her seat. Pierce, who had been driving, turned to look at her. The expression on her face was priceless, and it was the most emotion that she had actually shown since the death of her best friend.

"What?" he asked. Liz lifted herself out of her seat again and motioned for Pierce to do the same. The pair lifted themselves out to get an even better view of the commotion.

They both squinted to see a large crowd of people, mostly members of the press, and a podium equipped with multiple microphones. Cameras were flashing wildly as the political figure on the platform waved to the array of people.

On that podium stood former Stilwater mayor Monica Hughes. Many years had passed since she had left the small town to become a senator, and her age seemed to have been artificially depleted. She had to be at least fifty years old now, but her hair was pulled up in a youthful bun, and her face had been injected with countless doses of botox. She smiled as she made her speech and grasped a fake pair of large scissors to cut a large ribbon that spanned from either end of the bridge. It was clearly a grand opening ceremony.

"What's she talkin' about? Is the bridge opening?"

Liz put her head back in the car and watched Pierce, who was still trying to listen in to the big event.

"They must be opening the bridge." She replied with a sigh. "We won't be getting back home for a while if they keep this up."

Pierce watched carefully as the former mayor opened the scissors to cut the ribbon. A slight roaring noise was coming from behind them.

"Probably traffic getting pissed or something…" he thought.

What Monica Hughes and the Saints didn't know was that something was about to go _horribly_ wrong.

* * *

><p>"Put your foot on the damn gas!" the redhead yelled violently. The opening ceremony had been wildly interrupted by an unfamiliar group. From what Liz could tell, they looked like wrestlers on steroids. Large armed trucks crashed through the ribbon before it was even cut, and at least five Saints cars had been knocked out of the way. Pierce swerved the hearse out of the way to avoid the lime and black colored vehicles. Gunfire was rapid, and the newly built bridge was beginning to sway out of control. The lights illuminating the whole structure seemed to go out quickly as bullets ricocheted off of the glass bulbs.<p>

It was a mad race for time as cars pounded their way across the shaky pavement, and it appeared to be a death match between purple and green.

Or, more specifically, Saints and Luchadores.

Civilian cars were quickly plowed away by the larger trucks, and it was clear that were was no chance of getting out alive.

Beads of sweat were running down the foreheads of the hearse's occupants. Their only method of defense was firing bullets blindly out of the side of their vehicle. Armed with only a few submachine guns, the entourage was in terrible danger.

"Who are these guys?" shouted a familiar voice. Liz leaned her head out the window to see who had spoken. A bullet nearly grazed the side of her head when she looked into the car next to her. It was Shaundi; and she looked absolutely livid.

"It doesn't matter, just get out of here!" she replied. Rapidly, she stuck her head back into the car to avoid potential head trauma. She kept an eye on the car next to her.

It wasn't that she didn't completely trust her only female lieutenant; she just didn't have complete confidence in her driving abilities.

As Shaundi lifted her hand out of the car to fire her pistol, her car jerked forward.

A loud blast had boomeranged the car sideways. Liz stuck her head out in time to see the car in flames.

Helplessly, she called out Shaundi's name as her own car slammed sideways. She turned to glare at the driver, but it was too late.

Both vehicles struck the boundaries of the bridge. The metal cables snapped along with the guardrails, sending them soaring into the sky. Like the Titanic, the bridge separated into two, and one of the halves began to sink down. Adrenaline pumped into their bloodstream when they saw what had caused the massive damage.

What seemed to be shooting stars coming from the tops of skyscrapers were actually the firing of RPGs. Whatever this new gang seemed to be doing had crippled them tremendously. The rockets pierced the remaining cables and all of the remaining cars fell into the watery depths that surrounded Stilwater.

* * *

><p>Liz struggled to open the door of the car. Her muscles kicked into high gear as she worked against the density of the water, and the exit was easily opened. They had gone much deeper down than she expected.<p>

Water filled her lungs while she waited for Pierce to pull Shaundi from her car. She could only watch forsakenly and hope that the rest of the crew had made it to the surface.

She squinted to see if the watery purple vehicle had been ridden of its passengers. The pollution from the corrupted town didn't help her see at all, and she was barely able to make out Pierce swimming back up.

After struggling the whole way, she finally reached surface. When she got back up, the gunfire had been replaced with the blood curdling screams of people who were close to drowning. Bodies were floating every which way.

Some of those bodies were limp and clothed with purple.

Dead bodies had never bothered her before, but even thinking about seeing a dead Saint made her want to gag.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to see Pierce, who had been holding Shaundi in his arms.

"You alright?" he asked. Liz moved her hair out of her face.

"Hell yeah." She looked around tentatively and saw an odd looking body. She began to swim towards it when she heard a female voice from behind her.

"Get the fuck off of me, Pierce!"

Shaundi was obviously back up.

"Damn girl! You got some sort of problem, don't you?" Pierce hollered.

Liz didn't even bother to turn around. There was something more important that needed her attention.

Her fingers went to its face. A red, green and black mask covered it. A small inscription in red cursive was on the top of it.

"Luchadores…" she mumbled. She shoved the body under the water and silently cursed them out. Whoever had done this was going to pay.

"They're Killbane's thugs."

Liz turned around yet again to see the newest member of the Saints floating in the water. To everyone watching him, treading water seemed to be effortless because of his massive muscles. He had only joined the Saints a few days ago, but he was their most trusted ally in taking down the gangs of Steelport.

His name was Oleg Kirrlov.

At eight feet tall, he was filled with Russian brawn and even made Liz shudder a bit. She pushed her sagging hair out of her face yet again and turned to face him.

"Huh?" she asked. Oleg scowled.

"He's basically the Syndicate's attack dog. You could say he nearly owns the city."

"Wait…Kill-who?"

Oleg shook his head at the woman's stupidity. He knew she hadn't even graduated high school, but he had expected better from the leader of a massive gang.

"Nevermind." He replied.

Shaundi swam over. Her ponytail was drooped down, and although she was trying to hide it, she was shivering terribly.

"W-What he did to Johnny's funeral…that's over the fucking limit." She said. Tears were forming at the corners of her eyes and her fists were clenched under the water.

"He doesn't care about rules of engagement. There are none for him." Oleg said. It was hardly reassuring.

A grin made its way onto the Boss' face. The other three turned to look at her.

She had a plan.

"I don't care who Killbane is." she said.

"He doesn't have any rules. I can work with that."

* * *

><p><strong>Augh, yes, I know I used some direct dialogue from the cutscene at the end. I hate doing that, but it just felt so necessary...<strong>


	5. Shaundi

Sorry for the late chapter, guys. I've been enjoying spring break! **PLEASE REVIEW!~**

* * *

><p>Liz ran a hand through her damp hair and looked out over the massive party that had been thrown in Johnny's honor. Most of the Saints that were in attendance were grinding on the dance floor or hanging around at the fully stocked bar on the second floor. Her elbows were leaning against the expansive balcony that looked over the newly acquired penthouse they had taken over just a week or two before. It needed quite a lot of sprucing up when they had first arrived, but after the pink décor was replaced with purple, it looked much more satisfying.<p>

The intensifying bass from the DJ blasted through the whole room as she took a bottle of whiskey that was being passed around. It was only half full, but she downed it nonetheless. The warm liquid trickled slowly down her throat and gave her a sense of satisfaction that couldn't come from any other beverage.

She was really never much of a party person. Despite her leadership position, she managed to stay in the sidelines when there was some sort of social engagement. Whether it was one of Shaundi's massive parties that seemed to always be filled with drugs or if it was only a small get-together at a bar, she certainly wouldn't be the first to speak.

She preferred to let her actions speak before her words.

Besides, her words got her in trouble ninety nine percent of the time.

After resuming her previous position of watching over the party, a familiar person tapped on her shoulder. She turned around to see Shaundi, who was now also leaning against the railing. The woman had taken her hair out of the tight bun it was in before, and a sea of brown now framed her shoulders and chest.

"You look lonely." She said teasingly. Her brought her rosy cocktail to her mouth and took a generous sip. A drunken smirk graced her sparkling hot pink lips, and Liz realized why all the guys she knew had fallen for her. Shaundi had a distinct promiscuity about her that no man could resist. If it wasn't her sex symbol status that got her all the guys, it was definitely because of her capabilities with the Saints. Knowing how to use a gun probably helped significantly, too. Although she could be a bit bitchy, she really was the kind of girl any guy would want. Liz looked down at her own body, which lacked the same curves Shaundi's had. Her build was tall and muscular, which was a very good kind of body to have in her business, but she sometimes longed for the more womanly shape that nearly every other female Saint seemed to have.

Her fingers drummed on the railing as she tried to come up with an excuse to stay at her watch post. She knew why Shaundi had come to talk to her; she probably wanted to hook her up with one of her exes or force her to chat with the guests.

"Nah, I'm good here, actually." She responded casually. It wasn't like she was lying; she could leave mingling for later. Finding a way to drive Killbane out of her city was her main focus right now.

The brunette woman frowned and crossed her arms.

"You've been standing by the damn balcony for the whole party! Why don't you come and dance with us?" Shaundi proposed. Liz rolled her eyes.

"_Us_?" she asked. "Who do you mean? I swear to God, if it's with a stripper- "

The Boss was quickly cut off when Shaundi grabbed her wrist and started dragging her down the stairs. Her empty whiskey bottle smashed onto the floor, but the sound was absorbed into the earsplitting music.

Bright pink liquid sloshed in Shaundi's martini glass as she stepped off the stairs and onto the dance floor. Liz looked around suspiciously. The crowed appeared to be much smaller from her former point of view. Now, there looked to be at least one hundred people crowded into a seemingly large space. With only a few people in it, the penthouse's main room was considerably large. Currently, it felt like a totally packed club.

"Shaundi, I really don't-"

Yet again, Liz was cut off by the starting of another song. Her friend smiled as they moved into the center of the dancing crowd. People were yelling as loud as they could. Liquor was flying every which way, and the smell of weed drifted across the mass of people.

It was a smell Liz hadn't encountered in a very long time.

* * *

><p>Shaundi was determined to get her friend to let loose. Ever since she had known Liz, partying and loosening up was something she had almost never seen her do. Other than sleeping in a little later or going out to a bar with Johnny, she had never seen the Boss truly have fun with other people around. Although she knew the redhead had plenty of fun shooting down people in the streets, she was determined to find something else that would get her to laugh or have fun. Even back when they were in Stilwater, all of Shaundi's loosening up efforts seemed to have little or no effect on the other woman.<p>

As if she wasn't always focused on work, Johnny's death had made everything even worse than it was before.

Tonight, she knew she'd be able to change that with only a few drinks and a small amount of roofies.

Sneakily, she slipped out of the crowd and made a beeline to the bar to order some sort of potent drink. The bartender sauntered over to her with a broad smirk on his face.

"What can I get you?" he asked. He actually sounded a little drunk himself.

Shaundi grinned back at him. "Tequila." she said simply. He slicked his brown hair back and went to grab a glass. She looked him over quickly: shaggy brown hair, muscles, and the right amount of chin stubble.

"Maybe I could book him next time I film the show…" she mused to herself. A drink was placed in front of her seconds later, along with a cocktail napkin underneath it. With a quick wink as a thank you, she picked up the beverage and turned to walk back into the crowd. She flipped over the napkin to reveal a phone number sloppily written in red pen. In all honesty, she wasn't surprised at all.

* * *

><p>As much as she hated to admit it, Liz was really beginning to have a good time. She had pushed the thoughts of Johnny out of her head and let the music take over. The stench of the marijuana made its way into her lungs and gave her an odd sense of welcoming. Even though she had encountered it that morning, she had given it up a long time ago when she figured out that it actually did some damage.<p>

She turned around and was soon face to face with Shaundi.

"Where did you slip off to?" she yelled. An amber drink was in her hand, along with a small white tablet. Liz furrowed her eyebrows at the tablet.

"And what the hell is that?" she continued.

"It's just some stuff to loosen you up. It's no big deal, trust me." Shaundi replied with a smile. She gingerly crumbled up a small piece of the tablet and watched it dissolve in the rum.

The drink was shoved into the Boss' hand. She knew exactly what it was and what was most likely going to happen if she took it. It was risky, and she knew she probably wouldn't remember a thing about the whole night.

Luckily, Liz was a risk taker.


	6. Afterburn

**I was pretty bummed when I didn't get reviews for the last chapter...does that mean you guys didn't like it? D:**

**Anyway, please enjoy and review this chapter. It's longer than usual, so I hope you like it. Oh...and what do you think about the little flashback at the beginning? Please R&R!**

* * *

><p>"<em>This place kind of looks like a shit hole…" she mumbled as she walked around the new underground hideout. Hobo blood had stained her plain white tee shirt and cutoff shorts, and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She had expected a better place than this, but with no cash at all, the newly awakened Saints were going to have to settle for something a little less classy.<em>

"_Yeah, but it's a shithole with potential!" her partner said enthusiastically. She looked at the Asian man with a frown. Until they got some sort of income, there was no way they could pimp this place out. Plants were growing from the walls and were creeping up on the old rotten furniture that had been left behind. The pylons that were holding the sunken wasteland up were crumbling rapidly by the hour, and before they could even think about upgrading the interior, they would have to clean up the place's support system. _

"_How the hell are we going to get the money to fix this place? I can't have a crew hanging out in here!" she replied. She sat down next to her friend and pulled her cherry colored hair out of the rubber band holding it together. _

"_Fuck, I don't know. But hey, if we fix this place up with some stripper poles and a flat screen, it won't be too bad." he mused. A smile appeared on the woman's face._

"_You had me at stripper poles." she said. He held out his fist and she casually bumped it like they would always do._

_Instinctively, she reached into her pocket for a cigarette. Ironically enough, the man next to her was the one who had started her up on the nicotine habit. Nearly every time they were together, some form of smoking was always involved._

_And if it wasn't smoking, it was shooting something._

_She put the cigarette in between her lips and dug through her pocket for a lighter. To her disappointment, the only thing she could find was a ten dollar bill._

_She cursed under her breath and turned to her second in command._

"_Need a light?" he asked with a chuckle. She was tempted to flip him off, but a simple roll of her eyes and a nod was the only thing she did._

_He took out his bright red lighter and flicked it on as she leaned in. Her face was dangerously near his, and although he had known her for so long, he had never remembered seeing her so up close. She had a full set of lips that desperately needed chapstick; her hair always fell on her face at the same spots every time she let it down, and her high cheekbones were dotted with a spray of freckles that made her face look complete. Why he hadn't noticed this before, he had no idea._

_He didn't pull away after he had lit the cigarette up. As much as he hated to admit it, they were close enough to kiss, but it was an action he would never be able to execute for a multitude of reasons. She seemed to be too independent for love. It was almost as if it was a foreign concept to her._

_He also had Aisha, and even though they appeared to be an on and off couple, she meant the world to him. Cheating on her would be the last thing he would ever even consider doing._

_She looked at him oddly and leaned back. Thankfully, she hadn't taken it the wrong way._

_The redhead took a long drag and turned to him again after a minute or two._

"_C'mon, let's get out there and find some of the old crew."_

_And with that, she stood up and waited for him to follow._

* * *

><p>Miniscule beams of sunshine radiated into the Boss' dark room the morning after the party. She had her curtains drawn shut, but little fractions of light managed to sneak their way through and began to wake her up.<p>

Unfortunately, she could still feel the events of the previous night catching up to her.

The vibrating phone next to her sounded like an assault rifle being fired. Liz pawed at the annoying object that was resting on the nightstand. It was only a few feet away from her, and she couldn't be bothered to pick it up herself. She stared it down until the buzzing subsided, causing a small feeling of satisfaction to creep up into her.

The serendipity didn't last long, however. The buzzing resumed a few seconds later.

"This had better be pretty fuckin' important…" she mumbled to herself. The woman extended her arm as far as it could and snatched the device off the table. She clicked it on and was ready to tear up the person who was on the other end of the line.

"What?" she snarled. Unbeknownst to her, it was well past noon. Everyone else in the Saints were up and murdering anyone who came into their path, and they were expecting their leader to be doing the same.

"You wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?"

A recognizable voice was on the other line. Pierce sounded wide awake and not affected by his large intake of beer from the night before.

"Literally." she garbled back. Liz could only imagine the shit he had lined up for her to do that day; comic signings, movie deals, fan meetings…

"Hey, come on! Wake up before I have to get my ass over there and do it myself!" he hollered. She rubbed her forehead and began to slide out of bed. She didn't even notice that she was completely naked, nor did she see the many articles of clothing that littered the floor.

Whatever _had_ happened last night had been totally erased from her memory.

"Alright, I'm out of bed!" she replied. Lazily, she pulled her mangled hair out of her face and made her way over to her dresser to find something decent to wear. After pulling out a short sleeved button up, she made a beeline for her jeans and leather jacket that were currently littering the small spot beside her bed.

She somehow managed to get her clothes on properly while Pierce droned away on the phone. He must have been convinced that she was listening because she had put down the phone multiple times to button her shirt and zip her coat.

After a good five minutes, she finally said something.

"So, what are we doing today?"

Pierce didn't respond for a few seconds.

"That's what you were just explaining, wasn't it?" Liz asked. She could hear Pierce sighing on the other end. Slowly, he began to speak again.

"We're picking up you and Shaundi and then we're going to a Decker barge to save an ex-fed who can help us out. Name's Kinzie Kensington; she was an agent for the FBI until the Deckers ratted her out. Now she's with them on the damn boat. We're gonna go on, save her and come back here. Is that simple enough for you?"

Liz made her way out of her room and slammed the door shut. Other Saints were already lingering around the building and cleaning up the remains from the party. Afternoon light shined through the windows, and she finally realized what time it was.

"I'll be waiting at the crib." She said simply. She hung up the phone, not wanting to anger her lieutenant any more. Kicking beer bottles on her way, she sauntered over to the large couch and tried to recall the event from the night before.

* * *

><p>Pierce pulled up in front of Shaundi's loft and took out his phone to call her down. He hadn't said a word to the woman next to him. Her eyes were more tired looking than usual, and almost no makeup covered her face. It was a fresh look for Liz, and he couldn't really say that he liked it too much.<p>

"So, you had a rough night?" he asked as he waited for Shaundi to pick up.

Liz rubbed her forehead and nodded.

"I think Shaundi slipped some shit into my drink. I don't really remember a hell of a lot, and I still feel like I'm fucking stoned." she responded.

Pierce raised his eyebrows and nodded. That explained the unusually horrible mood she was in.

A second later, an annoyed voice answered the phone.

"What?" she growled. She didn't sound too happy, either.

"Get down here, we're gonna go capture that chick on the boat!" he responded.

Liz heard a loud sigh come from the phone before Pierce threw it back into the cup compartment.

"She's on her way." he said. The Boss smirked slightly at the thought of Shaundi being just as hung over as she was.

"This should make for an interesting day…" she thought as Shaundi strolled over to their Infuego. She pulled off her sunglasses before sliding into the backseat. Liz was surprised by her appearance; despite having a long night, she still managed to look her best.

That was typical for her.

"So we're gonna go get a shitty fed who'll rat us out as soon as we free her?" she asked. Pierce chuckled and turned around to look at her before starting the car up again.

"You're just jealous." he teased. Shaundi crossed her arms angrily.

"I'm not jealous! This chick had better be worth our time, though." Her tone had risen slightly and Liz couldn't help but smirk even more.

"Can't you two just calm down? I don't feel like disciplining you." she interjected. Shaundi stared at the back of her friend's seat with an exasperated look on her face.

"I'm kidding." she added. Shaundi still didn't respond.

* * *

><p>Liz had been expecting a lot more security on the barge than what was actually there. A gang called the Deckers had been guarding it, but they looked more like extras from a Tron movie than members of an actual gang.<p>

They didn't seem extremely tough and there weren't many of them, so getting to Kinzie wasn't a problem. In fact, she had only used up a few clips of ammo before she got to the control room where her new lieutenant was being held.

She kicked the door down and looked on the floor to see a smaller woman tied down. The captive's hair was similar to Liz's, and it was held together in a loose bun. She still wore her old FBI windbreaker along with a pinkish purple sweatshirt underneath it.

The Boss hadn't been expecting this at all; she imagined that FBI agents were a lot more glamorous. However, Ms. Kensington was no Angelina Jolie. In fact, she was just a twenty-something ginger with glasses.

"So, you're Kinzie, right?" she asked. She pulled a pocketknife out of her pocket and began to cut the ropes that held the younger woman down. Her attempts at light conversation only earned her a scoff.

"Yeah, that's me." Kinzie replied. As soon she could stand up, she looked Liz over. She blankly stared at the tall woman's body and realized that she was expecting a strong male to come and save her. She wasn't expecting a female to lead the powerful Third Street Saints.

"This means you're Liz, I guess." the techie stated.

"Whatever." Liz replied. "Save the small talk for later, we're getting out of here."

Kinzie nodded and began running for the door that led to the main deck of the boat. She cringed as she saw the large amount of dead bodies resting on the cold metal. Trying not to gag, she walked over to the other two people that were also on the boat.

One of them had on excessively tight clothes and a brown ponytail that was just as tight. The other one had on a white suit and a hat. She could only assume that these were high ranking Saints.

"Kinzie, this is Shaundi and Pierce. They'll help you with whatever you need." Liz explained. Shaundi rolled her eyes at Kinzie and began to walk towards the boat they had arrived in.

Liz followed her friend to the boat, and as soon as everyone was on, they set sail for the Saint's HQ.


	7. Zimos

**I somehow wrote the longest chapter in this whole series in one and a half days...that's a new record. :*D**

**So, here's a new chapter for you guys, and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW AND GIVE SUGGESTIONS! I would love to see more than three reviews on this, and it would definitely motivate me to write a lot faster. :3**

**_Oh, and PS...I found an error in the Shaundi chapter. Somehow, tequila and rum can transform into each other. xD I'll fix that ASAP._**

* * *

><p><strong><strong>_An eager woman rushed into the Stilwater Memorial Hospital with a grim look on her face. She had fresh cuts on her cheeks from what looked to be from a sword, and her hair was sticking to the smaller bleeding wounds that covered the rest of her face. However, she didn't seem to want any kind of treatment at all. It looked as though she needed to urgently see someone. She shoved past nurses, doctors and receptionists and made her way to the elevator that would take her up to the Intensive Care Unit. The people in the waiting room just watched; a few of them were very aware of who she was, but none of them seemed to know what her intentions for being there were. Cautiously, they ignored her overwhelming presence and began to refocus on their own reasons for being at the facility._

_She mashed the button to call the elevator down and waited impatiently. As soon as it dinged open, she pushed all of the others aside. If they objected, she answered their complaints with a sneer. Unwillingly, they all stepped out so she could have the whole elevator to herself._

_She slipped a cigarette out of her pocket and fumbled for her lighter. Her hands trembled from nerves as she placed it in between her lips and lit it up. The smoke filtered throughout the small space, and she enjoyed a brief moment of euphoria as the smoke filled up her lungs. A happy sigh nearly escaped her lips, but then she realized why she had came here in the first place and a scowl appeared instead. She exhaled slowly when she reached the upper wing of the hospital, which was bustling even more than the floors below it. Faculty members moved every which way to make sure that all of the patients were being efficiently taken care of._

_Liz could only hope that they were keeping her best friend alive._

_After the Ronin had killed Aisha and severely wounded Johnny, she had sworn to tear up any of the Asian gang bangers that came into her sight. She had done just that, and after an anonymous call from a reliable source, she had killed the lieutenant who had caused her friends irreparable damage. Things seemed to be getting a little better as every moment passed by._

_She scanned the clipboards that hung in the recovery room doors and looked for Johnny's name. After wandering down countless hallways, she found a board with the name she was looking for in the farthest end of the high alert hallway. Numerous notes were written on his form; most of them describing the unstable state he was currently in. With a frown on her face, she strode into his room and tried her best to maintain her already shaky confidence level._

_Johnny lifted his body up from the cramped hospital bed when he heard her walk in. Other than the doctors, nobody had even bothered to notice that he was there. It was a feeling that he wasn't used to; usually when he simply entered a room, his demeanor commanded attention from everyone that surrounded him. Now, only the Boss seemed to care about his current condition. He had gotten calls from most of the other lieutenants, but none of them appeared to have the time to come to visit._

_From what he could recall from the day of his incident, Aisha had been killed. It was the only memory that was etched into his volatile state of mind. As gruesome as it was, he remembered the sickening thud her head had made when it hit the floor. It pained him to think of her being dead. She was the only thing in his life that constantly shined brightly, and it had now been ripped out of his grasp._

_He greeted his guest with a somber expression, and the look on her face matched his perfectly. She stepped towards his bed and sat on the side of it, not wanting to start a conversation on her own._

_Their interaction was limited for the first five minutes; it consisted of small talk about the weather and how everyone else was doing. Liz avoided the touchy subject that she knew Johnny wanted to discuss. After a long pause, he broke the silence._

"_She's dead, isn't she?" Johnny asked quietly. Liz bit her lip and nodded. _

"_What about the Jyunichi bastard?" he mumbled. "Is he gone?"_

_The woman next to him threw her cigarette on the floor and stomped it out with her work boots. _

"_I cut him up myself." she said. He figured that she had been in some sort of a fight based on her appearance. Her face was marked with small cuts everywhere, and the tips of her hair were slightly redder than usual from the blood. It was a style that he usually expected from her. Without a bruise or a cigarette, she looked incomplete._

_Fervently, she changed to subject to something slightly happier. _

"_When are they lettin' you out?" she asked. A small smirk appeared on her colleague's face. _

"_I should be up and murdering in the next few days." He paused and ran a hand through his matted hair. "Of course, the doctors didn't say that, but you know what I mean."_

_Liz stood up and looked around the room, which had an oddly pleasant view of Stilwater. Crossing her arms, she paced around the room in sheer boredom as she waited for the conversation to continue._

"_Do you need anything while I'm here?" she asked. "Like…clothes and shit?"_

_Johnny shrugged. "A rifle and some booze would be nice." he replied awkwardly. Watching her being genuinely concerned was killing him on the inside. He hated to admit it, but Liz was most likely the biggest sociopath out of all of the Saints. She expressed no remorse for any of her actions, she hated asking her lieutenants for help, and she had never gone a day without putting a bullet in someone's head or threatening to do so. It was a personality that appeared to fit for a gang leader, but not for a normal woman. When she legitimately worried about something or someone, he couldn't help but think something was really wrong. Something about her was off; and not even Johnny Gat could tell what it was._

_Their conversation wound down after a half hour. The things they did talk about really had nothing to do with what happened. Liz hoped that they wouldn't have to talk about any of it ever again._

"_I gotta go meet Pierce." she said hesitantly. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do while I'm gone." _

_Johnny shook his head and almost let out a chuckle, but something had cut him off. The lights had suddenly gone off all around him, and based on the screams coming from everyone else, the whole hospital's electricity had gone out._

"_Change of plans." she exclaimed. She lunged for the gurney that he had been resting on and began to wheel it out of the room along with the machines that he was hooked up to. Johnny only sat back and watched; he knew this was going to be one hell of an adventure._

* * *

><p>Things had been fairly quiet at the Saints Headquarters since Kinzie had arrived. She didn't come around the penthouse much; the most likely cause was because of how much she detested all social interaction that wasn't through a computer screen. Liz had received periodic text messages from her, but most of them just showed her lack of progress. On their boat ride home she had said something about knowing of two good allies, and so far she hadn't mentioned anything else about them.<p>

Liz drummed her fingers on her desk and looked around her office for something that could potentially distract her. The whole room was too well-manicured for a person like her; business certification diplomas were hanging on the walls, and the whole area had a major executive vibe to it. The thought of redecorating it had passed through her mind a few times until Shaundi had chewed her out on it. She kept on saying how they needed to have a more professional impression from now on, and apparently stripper poles and purple paint wasn't going to do it.

She turned off her computer and began to ponder what exactly had happened to the Saints. They had _never_ even tried to go for the "professional" appearance that Shaundi had described. They were always just the purple gang from Stilwater, and that's what they thought they would be until someone bigger came around to take them over. Of course, the Saints had became much bigger than they ever thought they could become. Liz looked down at her own clothes; small black shorts, an expensive purple tank top, and her old leather jacket. That jacket seemed to be the only memento of her old days back in Stilwater. Her wardrobe had changed dramatically during the past five years. Gone were the days where it was perfectly acceptable for her to be striding around in low rise jeans and a tight purple wifebeater. Now, if she wasn't wearing heels or a designer label, her lieutenants would tease her mercilessly.

In fact, her worn leather jacket was the only thing in the whole penthouse that she had actually kept from the old crib. Everything else was at her Red Light apartment back in her old city.

She sighed and looked down at her desk. A slight feeling of shame hung over her as she thought about what Johnny had said hours before he had died.

"_Is that what it's all about? Movie deals and ass tasting energy drinks?"_

It wasn't in her nature to doubt the gang that she had brought to power, but the words of her best friend echoed in her mind as her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She cursed under her breath and picked it up. To her surprise, it was Kinzie calling her. This was the first time she had actually called and not texted. Hoping for an important update, she answered the phone as fast as she could.

"You'd better have something for me." she said fiercely. She could almost sense Kinzie smiling smugly from her tone.

"I do, actually. The DeWynter sisters are keeping a guy named Zimos at Safeword. He's the one I was talking about earlier."

Liz furrowed her eyebrows. Those names sounded oddly familiar to her. When she didn't respond quickly, she heard a sigh come from the other end of the line.

"The DeWynters run the prostitution ring in Steelport. They're affiliated with the Syndicate, and they wanted to take Zimos down. He's been a pimp here for as long as anyone could remember, so they locked him up. Oh, and Safeword is a BDSM club that caters to various acts of perversion. The name comes from-"

The Boss quickly cut her off. "I get it." she said with a hint of disgust in her voice. She could hear Kinzie whisper something about a tea cup a few second later, although she chose to ignore the statement.

"Just grab someone to help you and get over there so you can save him. I've also got some info on another guy, but I need to find a location first." Kinzie continued.

"Awesome. Just…text me next time. I'll go grab Pierce and we'll swing by the club tonight."

After a satisfied grunt from Kinzie, Liz hung up the phone and got up from her cushy chair to go find Pierce. She highly doubted he would really want to go on this kind of adventure, and she was pretty sure Pierce wasn't into the whole bondage thing. Regardless of that, it would be easier to bring him than to bring Shaundi. At least he didn't complain like she did.

* * *

><p>"Why the hell are we doing this?" Pierce asked as he stepped into the passenger seat of the bright purple sports car. Liz was right; he hadn't wanted to come at all.<p>

"We're doing it because we need allies in this city. Do you want to take this place over or not?" she replied harshly. Her friend sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever." he barked. It had been years since he had been to a club like this one, and he wasn't interested in going back. The experiences he had had there were anything but wonderful.

As if on cue, Liz made a sharp turn and turned to Pierce, letting her eyes completely drift off of the road.

"So, you ever been to one of these clubs?" she mused. Pierce's eyes bulged out and a snarky grin adorned her face.

"I look like I go to one of those clubs?" was the only response he could give. She chuckled and made another hard right turn.

"Well, sometimes a man might need to take a break, especially with a stressful job like yours…" she continued. He sighed even louder than he had a minute before and crossed his arms.

"Just stop talking." he hissed. Liz gripped the wheel a little tighter and swerved into the gated Safeword parking lot, eager to get things going.

* * *

><p>After about an hour of interrogating gimps and searching the smelly passageways known as the "Pony Barn", the two Saints finally found who they were looking for. The only identification the pimp had was a rhinestone Z on his back. He was fully saddled up with a cart hooked onto his back, and as disgusting as it was, they had to find a way to get him out of there.<p>

"This is our guy?" Pierce asked. Liz stepped back and took a look at the aging man.

"The Z doesn't give it away?" she asked. Pierce smiled mildly and took a stride towards their future ally.

They both cautiously began to take the gear off of him until a voice echoed from a distant hallway.

"They went this way!" it yelled. The only people it could be were the police or the Morningstar, and regardless of which one it was, they still had to get the hell out of the club.

"Shit…" the woman mumbled. Instinctively, she hopped onto the cart that the pimp was carrying and motioned for Pierce to do the same.

"We don't have time for this, Zimos. Just get the fuck out of here!"

Out of all of the things Liz had encountered while being a Saint, what had just happened to her had probably been the weirdest experience ever. Somehow, Zimos had managed to cart them all the way outside. With the help of some firepower, the three of them had killed their pursuers and made it out without being torn apart by the Morningstar guarding the whole club. Liz wiped her hands off on her legs in complete aversion. She didn't mind getting dirty, but this took it to a completely different level.

Zimos unhooked himself from the cart and unstrapped the ball that was in his mouth. Pierce threw the man's silver microphone to him. He brought it up to his throat and began to speak, and strangely enough, his voice was totally autotuned.

"This isn't some sort of gang bang, is it?" he asked. His voice had a very bizarre rhythm to it, but it matched the odd form of swagger Zimos seemed to have.

"Why you gotta put that image in my head, bro?" Pierce asked with remorse. Zimos smiled at him.

"I'll take that as a no, then." he replied.

At that moment, Liz's phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She sighed, wondering what someone would want from her at this time of night. It wasn't unusual for her to get calls this late; however, they were usually for something that wasn't exactly important.

"What's up?" she answered. She lifted the phone from her ear for a moment to see the number that has called. To her surprise, it was Kinzie.

"Hey," she began. "I think I found the other guy I was talking about."

Liz beamed from ear to ear.

"Text me the address, I'll be right on it."

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, I know I kind of bend the missions around a little bit...I do that on purpose.<strong>


	8. Angel

Hey guys. I was hoping to get this chapter up earlier but I was feeling a little iffy about it. I double checked the chapter...and I don't think I really did Angel justice. :( Regardless of that, please _**REVIEW**_ and enjoy the chapter.

* * *

><p><em>Shame.<em>

Worn leather slammed into the bandaged knuckles of Angel de la Muerte. The lone platform his old wrestling ring stood on shook from the force of his blow. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with; he hadn't fought a real competitor in ages. He had learned every curve the red leather bag possessed and what type of impact or move made it plummet to the floor. It was almost as familiar as his mask used to be.

_Revenge._

Once again, his dry hands collided into his target. This time, it collapsed onto the floor and landed with a loud thud. The noise echoed throughout his enormous, dilapidated gym and bounced off the three story ceilings. His home and former place of business mimicked a church because of its style and architecture. During its heyday, it had been arguably the most beautiful building in Steelport. Luchadores flocked there to be trained by Angel himself, and it was also a place where any one of them could come and gamble for fun. Thinking of what the gang of Mexican fighters had become under Killbane made him want to gag. As he took a step back and listened to the sounds reverberate from the walls, he could feel the tiny details of his former establishment begging to be repaired. The torn wallpaper, the dusty tables, the broken slot machines; all of them were signs of his burned out fame that had been robbed from him.

The memories began to flood back into him like they always did. The feeling of utter terror he had when his mask had been forcibly ripped off by The Walking Apocalypse frequently daunted him during this time of night, and now was no exception. He knew that he shouldn't let his former partner haunt him, but the thoughts were like drugs. Like an addict facing a relapse, the hallucinations of his old days with Eddie Pryor came back to him in forms that never went away. Angel ripped down the zipper of his purple hoodie and threw it onto the floor, revealing a heavily scarred and tattooed torso. As bruised as it was, the curves of his six pack gleamed against the light of the moon that shone through from the massive hole in the ceiling. He had been training for years to get revenge on Killbane, and he had an odd suspicion that this night was going to change everything.

* * *

><p>Not knowing her way around Steelport was really making Liz late for a lot of things, including saving her future ally from a Syndicate raid. Kinzie had sent her directions to the worn out gym twenty minutes ago, and she had called again to make sure that she had gotten there. However, the techie had failed to mention the amount of danger the man was in. Apparently, twenty of Killbane's goons were trying to make their way into Angel de la Muerte's establishment, and Pierce couldn't handle taking them down alone. He had called Oleg, but it was going to take a while before he could show up. Now, it was all up to the Boss and Zimos.<p>

Liz crushed the gas pedal and chugged over half of the can of beer that was in her cup holder in an effort to get there faster. Her plan would have worked very well if Zimos hadn't been yelling at her in the passenger seat. His obnoxious voice echoed in her head as cars nearly collided with theirs, and they had just barely missed being in quite a few fatal crashes.

"Damn, girl! What have you been drinking?" the auto-tuned man asked jokingly. A hint of anger could be detected in his voice, which was promptly ignored by the gang leader next to him.

She didn't even want to remember what she had been drinking earlier, let alone now. A small bit of whiskey mixed with Saints Flow was the only thing she _remembered_ consuming earlier that day, so she doubted she was truly drunk. If she couldn't recall what else she had gulped down, that meant she had been wasted for most of the morning. It would also explain why the earliest memory she had of the day was waking up in her office.

Regardless of this, she felt fantastic, and in _her_ mind that meant that it was perfectly acceptable for her to do whatever the hell she wanted.

The woman bit her lip and forced the car to go even faster than she thought it could. Zimos cocked an eyebrow in thought and studied her face.

"What? You addicted to the bottle or somethin'?" he inquired. His question earned him a large sneer from Liz.

"Get your foot out of your mouth, asshole." she said through gritted teeth. Even if she did have a drinking problem, she would be the last one to admit it. She wasn't going to let a nasty old pimp force her to blurt it out.

Zimos stayed quiet and fidgeted in his seat. Out of all the traits he thought the Boss would have, being a heavy drinker was one of the least surprising things he had expected from her. Sighing, he undid his seatbelt to relieve his discomfort. He hadn't gotten time to change out of the uncomfortable clothes he had been wearing for ages. In fact, so little was covering him that it barely even counted as clothes.

Nonetheless, a haze of silence fell over the hastily moving vehicle until they heard a crowd of gunshots. A smile made its way upon Liz's face when she saw who had already arrived to help assist Angel in defending his gym.

Oleg, the Saints' Eastern European giant, was already there and throwing people out of the way of Pierce. Most of the people he tossed died on impact, which meant less work that they had to do. That was a good _and_ a bad thing.

The woman finished off her can of beer and stepped out of the car. After slamming and locking the door, her heels clicked on the pavement as she walked over to Oleg, who was currently strangling a Luchadore. Pierce gave her a mere wave from the other side of the lot, which she returned contentedly.

The muscular man grinned at her and slowly crushed the windpipe of his poor victim. As the man gasped for air, Oleg struggled to talk to his comrade over the gunshots.

"Look who finally got here!" he teased. Liz chuckled to herself and fired across the parking lot at a crowd of the rival gang members who had just appeared out of their cars.

"Am I late to the party?" she asked. Oleg only shook his head in response and dropped the man he was strangling. Almost instinctively, the Boss finished him off with a bullet wound to the head.

* * *

><p>It was a very gauche scene in front of the gym. A gimp, a loud man, a feisty woman and a Russian giant had arrived to start killing the oncoming invaders, and Angel was less than amused. He had only seen them from one of the holes in the wall, and he didn't remember asking them for help. Their purple attire made them look oddly familiar, but he couldn't place their identities at the moment.<p>

He put his focus back into the ring, where he flipped a Luchadore onto the ground. The way his body hit the floor mimicked the punching bag, and the sound rang throughout the building along with the pattering of flying bullets. However, this sound was much more satisfying. A real body always made a more fulfilling noise than an inanimate one.

Before he could even blink, the doors to the gym slammed open, and the same foursome that was fighting outside entered to check on their potential partner. The gym's lights that had been turned off for so long began to flicker back on again, making the former wrestler squint to see who had came in. The woman stepped in first, followed by the three strange men. Angel let his eyes wander over her figure; she looked to be six feet tall and quite fit for a female. The Luchadore below him began to squirm, and with one fatal kick to the head, he went down again. Alarmed, the redheaded woman jogged up to the foot of the ring.

Instantly, Angel made eye contact with Oleg first. He knew the man looked familiar: he was a brute that Loren must have made. However, upon further inspection, there were some notable differences. This one had a kinder look on his face, and he was glowing in a white suit with a purple sweater underneath it. He knew that no brute of Loren's was even smart enough to wear decent clothes. And, judging by the colors, this brute seemed to be a Saint. In fact, the rest of the people in the small crowd were also clad in purple and fleur de lises. He still kept his eyes locked on Oleg.

"You're not one of Loren's brutes." he stated. The large man had looked Angel over in the same fashion, and came to the conclusion that he was no Luchadore.

"You're not one of Killbane's thugs." he countered. The staring match was short lived; the sound of cars screeched from in front of the building, signaling the arrival of more Luchadores. Seconds later, they swarmed the front door and began to file in.

"Yeah, but these idiots are." Liz exclaimed. She drew her gun out of her pocket once again and aimed at the blur of green and red that was approaching.

It was time for things to get interesting.

Thug after thug and brute after brute fell down to the old floor of the gym. Although there were only four Saints and Angel, taking down the Luchadores was easy work. Their fighting style lacked any kind of skill, which made them easy opponents to take down. Firing blankly could barely even be considered a tactic in the first place, and the Luchadores, blinded by their own battle fever, fell quickly.

Like she usually did, Liz wiped the blood off her hands and onto her jacket. The red stains faded into the leather, and with a satisfied sigh, she stepped up to Angel to take a good look at him. Swiftly, he turned around and stepped down from the ring, seeing this as a prime opportunity to ask why a bunch of Saints had shown up to help him. Of course, he was grateful for their assistance, but it made no sense for them to be there without a reason.

The Boss held out a hand, which Angel firmly shook.

"We heard you hate Killbane more than we do." she started. Angel glowered at the sound of his former partner's name.

"Don't say that bastard's name in my gym." he replied forcefully. Liz crossed her arms. Kinzie _had _been right about this guy; he truly hated The Walking Apocalypse more than anyone else in Steelport.

"My lieutenant heard about what you did before you lived in this…place…" she continued hesitantly. It was tempting to call the place a complete shithole, but she didn't want to face the same fate of the Luchadore who was lying in the ring.

"…and we were all interested in asking if you wanted to help us out. We'll help fix up your place, we'll get you whatever you need, it'll be-"

Without any hint of uncertainty, Angel interrupted her mid sentence.

"Absolutely." he said. "We can take him down together."

He took a step back and surveyed his gym before turning back around to the crowd of Saints.

"And whatever you do, don't touch the gym."

And, with that, Angel de la Muerte was the newest member of the Saints.

Liz knew she had her work cut out for her.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, one of Liz's traits has been revealed. Part of me feels like she had Mary Sue tendencies, which is why I modified her a lot from my original design. I want to give a ton of info on her past later in the story. I think it will help people understand her as a character better. It kinda feels like she lacks the amount of depth I usually give her. Hopefully I can give away more of her personality soon.<strong>


	9. Plan B

Well, you guys asked for longer chapters, and I think this is the longest one yet. Get ready for some action!

And sorry for the lack of frequent updating. Algebra stuff has really been kicking my butt lately and updating has been hard. I've been getting almost 60 multi-step problems per night...it isn't fun. :\

Please enjoy the chapter and _**REVIEW**_!~

* * *

><p>Liz's cigarette butt burned furiously in its ashtray. Her hand was supporting her cheek in boredom as she sipped a beer in the only decent bar in Steelport. The Broken Shillelagh had a distinctly Irish feel to go along with its name. The same family had owned it for years, and they had kept a consistent homey atmosphere since it had been opened. It wasn't really the kind of place you would expect to find a Saint, which was the exact reason why it was Pierce and Liz's favorite place to let loose. Nobody would ever see either of them there, and if they did, nobody had the balls to say a word about it to the cops.<p>

Because she was there so often, Liz had developed a reasonable relationship with the bar's staff. Most of them were from across the pond and had no knowledge of her identity, making it a great way for her to meet some new people without being interrogated about her job. Although Saints' arcade games lined half of one of the walls, keeping her characteristics a secret wasn't too hard to do. Promotional deals weren't really her thing, which meant not many people knew her face too well in the first place. She left those kinds of things to Shaundi and Pierce.

She took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and opened it to retrieve another one. Quitting was another thing that was on her agenda; before Johnny had passed, she had started the long process. It had taken her years to realize how truly bad they were for her health and her image.

All of those thoughts seemed to melt away the moment she heard those fateful bullets collide with some part of her second in command's body. She became a full blown chain smoker after that. The nicotine was the only substance that calmed her nerves even more than alcohol.

Scowling, she put the box back in the pocket of her jeans when she realized that she was all out. Her mind wandered back to how bad her habit had become after the incident. Other than stress, she couldn't truly pinpoint the reason why she was smoking through at least a pack a day. However, deep down inside, she knew the exact reason behind the bad habit.

Johnny had done the same thing.

It was an absolutely stupid reason in her opinion, and masking the habit wasn't working anymore. Liz picked up her beer again and took a final gulp before placing it back on the bar. It had been a month since the funeral, and most of the time the many memories that she had shared with her friend had been pushed to the back of her mind. Doing crazy things to battle against the Syndicate had taken a higher priority, and grieving over Johnny was the last thing she would be able to do. Living life in the fast lane caused her deep desire for Stilwater to fade away, and it seemed like her days as a gangbanger were far behind her.

She had moved on now, but part of her couldn't help but stay burrowed in her memories of her younger days.

A young man appeared in front of her with a smile and took her empty pint. She could only figure that he was the owner's son or nephew; he had auburn hair that was just a few shades darker than her own. Light stubble danced across his chin, and his eyes were a stunning sky blue. He was undoubtedly the most handsome man in the bar, and he knew it, too. Regardless of his cockiness, he was the one who had served Liz her first drink in Steelport. Since she didn't spit it out after her first sip, she never felt the need to go to a different bar or club when she desired an alcohol fix.

Much to her disappointment, the Irishman had walked back over to her without another pint in his hand. He stretched his arms behind his head and yawned before looking at the time on his watch.

"You'd better get goin', lass." he exclaimed. His accent sounded like it could cut through steel; somehow it was capable of sounding nippy and intense at the same time. Liz felt her phone buzz and she reached for it out of her pocket while moving her head to look up at him. An amused smirk covered the lower half of his face, causing her to scowl and stand up.

"It's not even ten yet." she replied. He could tell by her tone that she was more irritated than usual.

"'M closing early tonight; one of your friends came down here and gave me an invite to yer party." He pulled an invitation out of his apron pocket and held it out to the woman. She glanced at it swiftly and didn't bother to look at the details.

Apparently, Pierce was throwing a party and she hadn't been invited.

Begrudgingly, she threw an unknown amount of money at the bartender to cover the couple of pints that she had purchased. The man took the invitation and put it back in his pocket before putting the money in the register.

"Someone's pissy tonight." he mumbled under his breath. Liz strode out of the bar and made her way back to her car to make a beeline to the Saints' HQ.

* * *

><p>"Johnny's dead and he's throwing a fucking party!" Shaundi screamed. The Boss held her phone away from her ear to avoid getting any kind of hearing damage. Shaundi had been the one who had made her phone go off earlier. She was currently in a blind rage over the fact that Pierce was havinging a party. Liz couldn't determine why her lieutenant was still stuck on Johnny's death. It had been at least a month since he had passed, and when most Saints died, nobody even cared for more than two hours. She knew Johnny was different, and moving on was a painful thing to do, but Shaundi was beginning to get ridiculous.<p>

For a split second, she wondered how much time the Saints would lament after her death. It was an inevitable question that she preferred not to think about.

"Are you even listening to me? Get your ass over here before I shoot his damn head off!" the other woman barked. Liz turned and pulled her car into the underground garage at their penthouse.

"Relax, Shaundi. I'm on my way up."

* * *

><p>After sending a quick text to one of her exes, Shaundi leaned against the frame of the elevator and tightened her ponytail. She was hoping that the Boss would take her side on this one; Pierce had never asked for her permission to throw any sort of gathering. In fact, the Saints hadn't had any sort of get together since the party after the funeral. As much as it pained her to say it, Johnny's death wasn't the only reason why she didn't want Pierce throwing a party. He had been a total dick to her for the past few days, and this had sent her totally over the edge. The sound of a door opening made her turn her attention to the figure that had appeared in front of her. She watched the woman in front of her pull off her shades and stick them into the pocket of her jacket. She stepped towards Shaundi before taking the jacket off completely.<p>

"Well, where's the party?" Liz asked sarcastically. "I don't see people."

Shaundi rolled her eyes and called down the elevator. The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was someone else's attitude.

The elevator dinged open and the two women proceeded to walk in. Their heels clacked on the marble floors in unison as they waited for the elevator door to close. Liz looked up at Shaundi and saw her anxious expression.

"You feeling alright?" she asked. The former hippie looked at her fiercely and crossed her arms.

"I'm fine." she said. "Just fucking fine. Do I look alright?"

Liz raised an eyebrow at the comment.

"You just look pretty damn anxious. You forget your pot at home or something?" she asked. She knew this would earn her a snide remark from her lieutenant, but she could care less. Shaundi's expression turned from exasperated to absolutely furious. She didn't say anything more until they arrived up at the penthouse.

* * *

><p>Loud rap blared through the halls of the headquarters. Scantily clad women were dancing in elaborate costumes of all kinds and successfully seducing most of the male Saints. Pierce and Zimos were no exception to this.<p>

Fervently, Shaundi strode over to Pierce and almost slapped him across the face. Liz followed behind with less haste; she was busy admiring the large party. Pierce had pulled out all the stops for this one, and she had to admit that it was pretty nice. There were strippers, a fully stocked bar, good music and everyone seemed to be having a kick ass time.

"How could Shaundi be mad at _this_?" she wondered. She stepped between her coworkers just in time to hear the end of a sentence.

"-I will shove that thing down your throat hole!" Shaundi yelled. It was obvious that she had no tolerance for Zimos. Liz put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from going any further.

"Calm the fuck down." she grumbled. Pierce stepped in front of both of them.

"She's right. We can't mourn Gat forever. We gotta get out of this eventually, if you know what I mean." he said calmly. Liz knew she couldn't have put it any nicer than he had. Even with Pierce's composed tone, Shaundi still wasn't convinced.

"Y'know, he's got a point." the Boss chimed in.

"Whatever." The other woman said. And, with that, Shaundi pushed past them, knocking a stripper to the floor in the process.

* * *

><p>Pierce and Liz made their way down the stairs to the lounge area of the penthouse. Zimos followed close behind them, but he quickly got lost in the crowd once they got to the bottom.<p>

They flopped down on the couch and Liz let out a long sigh of happiness. As much as she detested large parties, this one wasn't as bad as she had expected. It was actually turning out to be really nice.

"I'm impressed." she told him a minute later. Pierce turned and looked at her with astonishment.

"Since when did you think my parties were decent?" he asked. Liz responded with a short chuckle as a stripper approached her lieutenant. As expected, he ignored her question and dropped his pistol on the couch next to him. The grotty woman was dressed like a feminine version of Satan himself. As she gave him a lap dance, he let his head rest on the back of the couch in total ecstasy.

Liz turned her attention to a woman who had appeared next to her; this one was just as sleazy as the one that was currently all over Pierce. She wore a green cowboy getup, and her bikini barely covered any of her assets.

"You looking for a good time?" she asked promiscuously. She began to come onto Liz just like the other woman had approached Pierce. The woman had barely made it into her lap before being pushed off. The stripper's face collided with the floor, and the fall had caused her bikini top to split in half. Her face went from tan to bright red as she stood and ran off in total embarrassment.

Liz couldn't stop snickering at the woman's terrible fate. She stretched out her legs and rested them on the coffee table. She was finally beginning to relax for the first time in a long time. Taking it easy was a foreign concept to her, but when she actually tried to do it, it felt like absolute bliss.

As usual, the feelings of relaxation were short lived. She heard the click of a gun next to her, and instinctively, she felt her hand move to her own pistol in her pocket. With a harsh glare on her face, she realized where the click had came from. The stripper who had been luring Pierce now had him obliviously at gunpoint. Without even thinking, Liz lunged for the woman who was threatening her friend and slapped the gun out of her hands. The firearm hit the ground and discharged a few bullets, causing the music to stop mid verse. She looked back at the Saints leader in horror as she was punched to the ground. Her head began to bleed out profusely, and she was soon unconscious.

The crowd was screaming loudly, and Pierce jumped off the couch in shock. Before they knew it, rounds and rounds of gunfire were going off. The two gangsters took refuge behind the couch before they could see who was firing.

Liz lifted her head to look at who was causing it. She suspected that stray Syndicate bastards had weaseled their way into the penthouse, but what she saw shocked her.

Cautiously, Pierce lifted his head in alarm. All of the whores were fully armed with submachine guns and were firing into the crowd. Zimos soon joined them behind the couch.

"These ho's ain't ho's!" Pierce yelled. He could barely be heard over the rapid gunfire.

Liz knew it was time to set up a very quick game plan.

* * *

><p>In a gunfight, sniping was probably one of Liz's favorite jobs.<p>

They were the nearly silent killers; once you heard the loud, fateful bang of their weapon, it was too late for you. If the weapon happened to be suppressed, you knew you were totally screwed.

Liz was lying on the roof and was dangerously close to the edge of the building, which dropped at least fifty floors to the ground. Wielding a McManus and a few rounds of bullets, the snipers were left for her to take out. Although they had cleaned out the penthouse of the whores, snipers were still on the sides of nearby buildings. There were also rumors of helicopters circling the area, but now wasn't the time to worry about that.

She blew a lock of hair out of her face and looked into her scope for her target. Slowly but surely, her finger made its way to the trigger and took one of the few remaining bitches out. She repeated this same process about five more times until the remaining snipers were gone.

Pierce and Zimos soon appeared behind her. They had been returning fire downstairs and were making sure that place was truly cleaned out.

Liz stood up and kept a tight grip on her weapon.

"What kind of ho's did you hire, Pierce?" she asked. Pierce put his hands up and pointed to Zimos, who had taken a step back.

"They were my best bitches!" he said defensively. The Boss pushed past them and headed towards the stairs.

"Let's just turn on the goddamn power." she mumbled. Zimos gave Pierce a look, to which he replied with a questionable shrug.

"Just follow her. She's got her shit in line." he said.

* * *

><p>Liz skipped multiple steps to get down to the maintenance floor of the penthouse. It was pitch black with the exception of a few blinking red emergency lights. She felt herself bump into Zimos, Pierce, and many objects on her way over to the power switch. The alcohol was finally starting to get to her system.<p>

With the flick of a switch, lights came on and music could be heard blaring upstairs again. Just as she turned to go back upstairs, her phone rang again. She checked the ID to make sure it wasn't Shaundi, and was happy to figure out that it was Oleg.

"Oleg, I'm kinda busy-"

The large man cut her off.

"The party's a trap, the ho's are fully armed. I suggest you cancel it before it starts." he said. Liz rubbed her forehead and sighed.

"I kind of figured that out a while ago!" she replied. Oleg chuckled on the other line.

"Good, I knew a few helicopters wouldn't stop the Saints."

Liz froze.

"Helicopters?" she asked. Promptly, she hung up and ran for the stairs.

"What did he say?" Pierce asked. Liz turned to him with a grim look on her face.

"Helicopters outside." she said. "Get the RPGs."

* * *

><p>Morningstar helicopters had been bombarding the headquarters for twenty minutes before Liz could shoot them down. They were faster than she had expected, causing her aim to be terribly off. Their speed combined with her intoxication didn't mix well at all.<p>

The damage to the building hasn't been too terrible, but it was still considerable enough to call for repairs. Furniture was scoured everywhere, and countless spilled drinks had stained couches and carpets.

When the deed had been done and all Morningstar were gone, Liz walked back inside along with Zimos. Pierce had gone to his own office to start calling for repairmen to come in the next day.

"Well, that was quite a night, wasn't it?" he asked. Liz walked towards the staircase and began to ascend to her room. She really needed a good night sleep after all of this, even if it was already three AM.

"I guess you could say that." she answered. Yawning, she opened the door to her room and stumbled inside.


	10. Hangover

**I seriously don't even know how I was capable of writing this in one day...but I think it was because of the reviews. They mean a lot, guys! Please review even more and enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

><p><em>It had been a few days since Johnny had been bailed out of the hospital.<em>

_Although he was mostly immobile, he could sometimes be spotted wandering around the Purgatory looking for some booze to chug. The doctors had told him not to drink for at least two weeks, and their warnings obviously weren't stopping him. Bottles had formed a trail that led to his bed._

_Liz wandered over to his room from her office. They technically shared the room; both of their things had been tangled and intermixed on the floor. He almost never slept there, which was why she claimed the room mostly for herself. _

_She had actually been doing paperwork, which was a very foreign concept for any Saint. The Boss always dreaded doing things that involved her filling out forms. It was such an unpredictable process that usually ended with her slamming her fists onto her desk in anger. _

_This was why she wanted to hire a PR department._

_However, even if they did have a sector to handle these things, she couldn't have sent these particular documents to them this time. These forms were personal business._

_Most of the papers that had been emailed to her were regarding Aisha's funeral. It was yet another topic she was avoiding with Johnny, and now was the only time she would be able to address it with him. The funeral was scheduled for the next day, and if he wasn't able to go, they would have a big problem to deal with. _

_His door was cracked open a tiny bit, and she didn't even bother knocking. The door opened with a loud squeaking noise that made her friend cringe and roll over in bed. She looked at him with a gloomy expression and strode over to the side of the bed. _

_"You feelin' any better?" she asked. Johnny reached over for his glasses on the wooden nightstand next to him. He pulled the specs onto his face and his appearance became completely different. He looked like the Johnny everyone knew and loved. Without his glasses, his face seemed empty._

_"Hell yeah. What about you?" _

_Liz looked down at her own wounds she had received while wheeling her best friend up to the roof to airlift him back to the Saints' hideout. They were minor compared to what she was used to getting. A small cut was healing on her cheek and she was nursing a bullet wound to the shoulder, which made it painful to raise her arms to shoot. She shrugged it off and hopped in next to him, hoping to get some rest after telling him the plans for the next day._

_He sat up and looked at her for a minute before he noticed the small stack of papers she had dropped on the covers. His eyes glanced over them before quickly moving away; just seeing _her_ name made him want to gag. _

_Liz leaned her head up to see what he had been looking at and bit her lip when he turned to her for an explanation._

_"The funeral's tomorrow." she said simply. "You sure you're up for it?" _

_The man ran a hand through his hair and lied down next to his friend. He knew he couldn't tell her that he wasn't ready. In fact, he knew he would never be ready. Going to her funeral would be worse than being shot in the heart. _

_Now wasn't the time for him to procrastinate. He rolled over to face Liz and nodded._

_"I'll be fine." he replied. His glasses covered up the solemnity on his face. _

_Liz looked at him and saw right through what his glasses were covering up. She had no idea how she was supposed to help him emotionally. Physically, she knew shooting a few rounds off at the Purgatory bar would probably ease his pain for a few hours. _

_"You're not over this yet, are you?" she questioned. Johnny's lips curled into a grimace. _

_"You think I'll ever be over this whole fucking thing? She meant the damn world to me!" he roared. Liz sat up and leaned against the headboard. Emotions were running through his veins as his rage began to leak out of him._

_"If the Ronin do _anything_ to fuck up her funeral, I'll snap their necks and bury them alive." he said. His tone had calmed slightly and he sat up in the same position as the woman next to him._

_The storm of anger ended as soon as it started, and a deep sigh escaped his lips. Now seemed to be the perfect time for a smoke. _

_"Got a light?" he asked. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and leaned into her. Liz fumbled around in her pocket for her own smokes and a lighter. She pulled out a few shotgun shells, a condom, and a twenty before finding what she needed. _

_He chuckled at the contents she had pulled out. Only a Saint would carry those kinds of things around. Johnny couldn't help but wonder what she was hiding in her other pocket. _

_Liz leaned into him like she always did and flicked the lighter on. Their lips were only inches apart, and they could mutually smell the nicotine and alcohol on each other's breaths. The familiar scents lured them closer together, and the tantalizing aroma of the nearly burning tobacco between their lips made their contact seem surreal. _

_The end of Johnny's cigarette caught on the lighter and lit up, causing smoke to billow in between their faces. Liz leaned back and quickly lit up her own cigarette. She hid her small blush in the smolder._

_She couldn't believe that she had almost kissed Johnny Gat._

* * *

><p>Liz found herself clinging to the toilet bowl for most of the morning after the big party. It had been a rough night for her, and her dreams had been more like hallucinations. Recalling any of these visions would be more challenging than sniping a moving target two thousand feet away.<p>

After what felt like hours, she stood up and flushed the foul smelling toilet and made her way to the mirror. Scratches adorned the piece of glass, but that didn't stop her from seeing her tired face. She pulled her hair back away from her face and felt the grease running through it. Her whole body felt totally disgusting.

She couldn't remember the last time she had showered. Soon, her clothes were strewn on the ground and her figure was blurred by a thin sheet of glass. Water cascaded down onto her dirty body, turning her skin back to its normal pale complexion. She scoured her scalp and her skin until it was totally clean from all of the shit she had encountered since her last shower. The combination of the heat of the water and the intense cleaning made her skin turn bright red to match her hair.

After she was totally dirt free, she leaned against the wall of the shower stall and inhaled the steam coming from the water. The same feeling of relaxation she had experienced briefly the night before began to come back to her. After closing her eyes, she slowly succumbed to the overwhelming feeling as she allowed her body to melt into the enticing heat.

* * *

><p>Liz strode out of the shower an hour and a half later and went downstairs to see how the cleanup process was going. Glass was still partially littered everywhere from the windows that had been shattered by the helicopters the night before. All of the bodies had been cleaned up, but the stench had already percolated throughout the entire penthouse. The stench combined with the aroma of liquor, smoke and sweat was nauseating for any non-gang members. If she hadn't been used to it, Liz would probably be hung over at the toilet again.<p>

Pierce walked over to her acrimoniously. He looked terribly sleep deprived, but considering how late he had stayed up the night before; he could have looked a lot worse. She looked up at him and was surprised at his bad mood.

"What's got your panties in a wad?" she teased. Pierce was less than impressed.

"I've gotta stay here and wait for the goddamn repair man when I have a meeting with a record exec!" he whined. She rolled her eyes at him.

"So you're getting into singing?" she asked. Pierce rubbed the back of his head.

"Now's not the time for questions." he said. He stomped past her and shoved a clipboard into her hands. "Just take that and hand it to the motherfucker when he gets here. I don't have time for this."

And, with that, Pierce hopped into the elevator and left.

* * *

><p>Pierce totally owed her for this one.<p>

Liz stepped into her Temptress and sped off into Sunset Park. The repairman her lieutenant had called ended up being an hour late, and when he finally arrived, stupidity was practically radiating off of him. She thrust the clipboard into his grip as fast as she possibly could before deciding to get out of the penthouse. She could only hope that her crew would stop the idiot from doing something stupid.

She sighed deeply and pulled her phone out of her pocket. Zimos had called during her argument a few minutes back. Assuming he needed her for something, she dialed up his number and began to drive towards his place.

He answered faster than she had expected.

"You called?" she asked.

"You ready to put your feet up yet?" he countered. His auto tuned voice sounded more irritating than usual.

Liz held her phone away from her ear for a moment to reflect on what he had asked. She had helped him get his business back up and running, but the Morningstar were still running around Steelport like annoying mosquitoes. If he was implying that he wanted to take a break, she sure as hell wasn't going to stop fighting.

"You're kidding, right? I thought we could get some more shit done with you back in business. We aren't just gonna sabotage the Morningstar this time. I want to get back at them for what they did last night." she replied. She heard an odd attempt at a chuckle come from the other end of the line.

"You gotta slow down, baby." he said. Liz grunted into the phone and went through a red light impatiently.

"No time." she refuted. Horns honked at her as she scratched the side of a car that had just passed her.

"Just come over to my pad, sugar. I got something here to show ya." he replied.

"Why should I?" she asked. She was already pulled up in front of the carwash, but coaxing him for a reason certainly wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Humor me." he said. Liz hung up her phone and put it back in its normal place before getting out of the car. Citizens of Steelport watched in horror as she sauntered into the carwash turned pimp pad. She made her way up the stairs and soon found herself inside Zimo's apartment.

* * *

><p>"That's one ugly fucking painting." she exclaimed. In front of her was an Andy Warhol inspired piece that was painted to look like Zimos. Nine versions of him were neatly arranged on the canvas and were smothered with bright psychedelic colors. It was also the centerpiece of Zimos' mantle.<p>

The pimp scoffed next to her.

"What the fuck do you know? That's a DeWynter sisters' original!" he retorted. Liz snorted and continued to analyze it.

"Since when did you roll with them?" she asked. He took a step back and sat down on the old couch by the fireplace.

"We used to be tight 'til the Syndicate rolled around. I've been of their Christmas list a _long _time. Don't you remember the goddamn pony show?"

Liz shuddered at the thought of reliving the pony show. It was one of the most disturbing things she had ever seen in her life.

"I'd rather not." she said as she sat down across from him. Zimos sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"Let's talk about you, baby. You got your crew over here and killed Phillipe Loren, didn't you? The Morningstar ain't got nothing on you anymore, and you're here to stay." He pulled out a beer from behind the couch and tossed it to her. She gladly accepted it and popped the cap off with her teeth.

"It's time to relax and cut loose, girl!" he continued happily. After grabbing a beer for himself, he rested his feet up on the worn coffee table and awaited the Boss' response.

"We can party once the work's done. Until the Morningstar are off the streets, I'm not taking a fucking break."

He was surprised at the woman's response; despite her actions most of the time, he thought that even _she_ would want to take a short break. It was yet another assumption he had about her that was wrong. She was full of surprises, and he liked that.

"If that's how you wanna play it, go ahead." the pimp said. Liz made her way to the door and threw her nearly empty bottle in the trash bin.

"I'll call you if I need anything." she said.

* * *

><p>Nighttime was quickly falling upon the city of Steelport. After going across town all day, the leader of the Saints felt completely empty. She hadn't had anything to drink since going to Zimos' place, and she was in desperate need of some nourishment. After calling up Shaundi, they both decided to meet at the Broken Shillelagh. The other woman was much less than thrilled to be meeting at an Irish pub, but Liz promised that it was the best place in town.<p>

There was little parking on the street in front of the bar, which forced her to have to parallel park a block away. She could have easily parked in the middle of the street if she had brought her motorcycle. Unfortunately, this was not the case.

After ten minutes of screaming and cursing, she managed to get her vehicle into the spot. The cars around her were significantly less damaged than they usually were, which was a nice small accomplishment to end the day with.

She unzipped her jacket and strode into the Broken Shillelagh. Her friend was already there sipping on a glass of red wine.

"When was the last time you drank red?" she asked. Shaundi looked up from her drink and greeted the Boss with a genuine smile, which was a very rare sight to see. The poor woman almost never smiled anymore.

"College." she answered. Liz nodded her head and sat down at the table. Before she could even blink, she waved down the bartender that was on duty that night. It wasn't the owner's son this time. Surprisingly enough, it was a woman. When she returned, she brought over a glass of wine to match Shaundi's.

Liz stared at the glass. It was much daintier than what she was used to.

Shaundi let out a loud laugh and took a final sip out of her glass.

"Have you even tried this shit before?" she asked. Liz answered her with a smirk and brought the glass up to her lips.

"Are you crazy? That's like asking you if you've tried weed."

She downed the whole glass in seconds and then slammed it down onto the table. The force had been just enough to shatter the whole bottom of the glass. Shards went catapulting across the table, and the two Saints were spewing out laughter.

Liz stopped and watched Shaundi laugh for a moment. She actually looked really, really happy for the first time in a month.

"Now _this_ is the Shaundi I used to know!" she said nostalgically. Shaundi paused.

"Really?" she asked. Liz nodded and stood up.

"Nevermind." she started. "C'mon, let's get outta here."

She threw a small stack of bills on the table to cover the glass and the wine, and followed by Shaundi, they both drove back to the penthouse.


	11. Wasted

**This chapter actually didn't turn out how I intended for it to be. I was going to write a completely different scene, which I guess I'll have to save for next chapter. I'm looking forward to writing the next one, actually. The last chapter and this one were pretty mellow and focused more on flashbacks, and I apologize if that bores you at all. Next chapter will hopefully be more of present time, along with a niiiice flashback~ **  
><strong>(lol, maybe I was actually implying something there. xD)<strong>

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter and PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p>After dropping Shaundi off after a night of violent escapades, Liz pulled into the garage of Shaundi's ex's loft. The place was a little too cozy for her liking, but without anywhere else to crash, it was the only thing better than driving a half hour to the penthouse. She turned her car off and shakily took the key out of the ignition before climbing out of the vehicle. After hitting a few strip clubs with her lieutenant, she had more alcohol in her system than even <em>she<em> was used to. Her normal stride had turned into a drunken stumble, and walking in five inch heels wasn't helping her at all.

She muttered every curse imaginable under her breath as she began the long trek up two flights of stairs to get to the apartment. The world seemed to be spinning around her, and her perception had been so skewed that she could no longer see straight. It was a feeling that was all too familiar for her.

After a good fifteen minutes, she jiggled the knob to the loft open. Although her attempts were futile, the door opened with ease. To her surprise, no other Saints had decided to crash there for the evening, so she had the place all to herself. She slammed the door and practically threw her purple Louboutin heels to the floor before collapsing on the couch. She grabbed the remote and turned the old television set on to lull her into a deep sleep. The waves of the snowy channels began to make her feel like she was standing in the rain, and suddenly, she began to fade away…

* * *

><p><em>Johnny Gat was undoubtedly the angriest person in the world at the moment. The one thing that he had been dreading had finally happened, and he was absolutely livid.<em>

_Shogo Akuji had threatened him to the death at Aisha's funeral._

_Veins were poking out of his neck and the hairs on his arms were standing straight up. He was ready to kill every last bone in that son of a bitch's body if it was the last thing he would do. _

_Unfortunately, even for Johnny, killing him wouldn't be as easy as it sounded. Just seconds before, Shogo had sped away on his custom motorcycle. It was obvious that riding away was his only option if he wanted to evade death._

_The moment he saw the bastard leave, his heart skipped a beat. If he was allowed to get away, there would be no way to track him down. He would most likely fly back to Japan in a panic, and revenge would become too difficult to achieve. _

_He watched the man go through a red light and almost get hit by two large SUVs. The thought of him being struck made the angry man snicker a little on the inside. If that had happened, thoughts of retribution would have no longer been needed._

_His head turned when he heard a matching cycle engine come roaring from the same direction as Shogo's._

_Smoke from the recently fired guns began to clear through the rainy air as he watched Liz drive out of the cemetery on a dusty gray Kenshin. Her once neat cocktail dress was now soaked and ripped up the side from the long gunfight that they had just engaged in with other Ronin. Johnny looked down at his own tattered silk suit and cursed loudly, but the wind caught his words, making them lost in the madness. He looked back up at the Boss just in time to see her take the same path that Shogo had taken. She turned and glanced at him reassuringly. Her lips parted and she began to mouth something to him._

"_I'll get him."_

* * *

><p><em>The many roses that had been placed on the casket had slid down from the impact of the heavy rain. Johnny stepped towards it and calmly put his colorful bouquet of roses back on the spot where they used to be. A profound sigh made its way through his lips, and he looked down at the shiny sarcophagus in sorrow. His feelings of anger had now been replaced with bitter remorse, and the sight in front of him made everything seem so much worse than it really was.<em>

_Johnny wasn't one to apologize to anyone, however, now wasn't the time to hold his ego in the way of anything. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees and pounded his fist on the casket. Bits of thunder rolled in the background as he began to say the things he knew he should have said earlier._

"_Goddamn it, Eesh…I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry…" he cried. Physical tears weren't running down his cheeks, but his emotions were coming out loud and clear. He looked around the cemetery in an attempt to find more to say. So much was caught up inside of him, and now was the last time he could ever say anything to her. Instead of ceasing his only opportunity, his mouth was numbed shut. He could not utter a single syllable. _

_His thoughts were interrupted by loud footsteps and the voice of a struggling Shogo Akuji. Johnny quickly regained his composure and stood up. He brushed the dirt off of his pants and looked over to see the bonehead of a man being restrained by Liz herself. She wiped a bit of blood into her shoulder and gave her best friend a hint of a smile._

"_He's yours." she said simply. As if he was a child's toy, she threw him over to Johnny despite his vocal pleas. Shogo's face collided directly with Johnny's fist, sending him soaring onto the ground. He howled in pain and stared at the large man standing over him._

"_Get up." Johnny sneered. The inferior man did as he was told and stumbled up. His mind was racing, and he thought of quick plans he could execute to make it out alive. His options were very limited, and making it out of this situation was almost literally hopeless. He looked over at Gat and sent his leg soaring into the air to smash into the gangster's chest. The kick landed flawlessly, but the force wasn't even close enough to knock down the Saint. Johnny grabbed his leg and snapped the bone in half, causing him to scream out in pain. Before he could hit the soggy ground, their heads collided, sending Shogo down onto the ground once again._

"_Get up." Johnny repeated. The Ronin leader knew that fighting wasn't going to get him out of this. He did as he was told, and, in one final physical attempt, he sent his fist soaring into his opponent's face. From afar, the punch seemed to be perfectly aimed. In reality, it landed pitifully on Johnny's face and didn't cause a single bruise or scratch. The superior man just shook his head at the rival and threw the kind of punch that Shogo had intended to give him. For the third time, the Asian antagonist was disabled on the ground. The back of his head had smacked against a lone tombstone, and he realized that nearly all of his options had disappeared. The only way out of this now was to reason and apologize. _

_He had a feeling that wasn't going to work. _

"_P-Please stop…" he said pathetically. Johnny clenched his fists._

"_See what happens when you fight someone who isn't stuck to a fucking chair? It ain't easy, is it?" he questioned. Shogo turned and gave the Saint a hellish glare._

"_I didn't kill her!" he bellowed. Johnny didn't return the fierce look; he merely scowled and shook his head._

"_You ordered it." Gat countered. He was beginning to get tired of the small talk. _

_Before he could comprehend what his own body was doing, his hands were around Shogo's neck, strangling him as hard as he could. Then, in an instant, he threw him directly into the tombstone he had been cowering into a few seconds ago. Despite the stone's thick structure, it shattered onto the ground._

_Shogo made his concluding effort as he coughed up a large amount of blood. He was shaking and cowering, and a quick death was all he could hope for. _

"_I'm sorry…" he said cleanly._

"_Apologizing doesn't bring her back. You could even let her have a fucking burial!" _

_Johnny made another sudden move and picked up Shogo's broken body. Despite the leader's cries for help, he dragged him over to the nearest open casket. The Saint rolled its current occupant out and clearly let the other man know his fate. Shogo only stared at the dead woman next to him for a split second before he was the one in her former resting place. He shrieked with horror before Gat slammed the box shut. His screams could barely be heard through the dense wood covering him. _

_Liz stepped forward when a shovel was tossed her way. She hadn't expected her second in command to react the way he did. Mixtures of shock and satisfaction swirled throughout her body as she looked down at the grave of the Ronin leader._

_Regardless of how brutal Shogo's punishment had been, it was what he deserved, and it was also one of the most badass things Gat had ever done. Monotonously, she assisted him in lowering the casket and burying it by hand. _

_Once the deed was done, she threw the equipment to the ground and wiped her muddy hands off on her dress. She couldn't wait to peel it off when she got home; in addition to the rip that had occurred up the side of it, it was now beginning to rip near the waist. It was extremely uncomfortable, and the rips and muddy handprints made it even more unflattering than it should have been._

"_You ready to go?" she asked quietly. Johnny looked up at the sky; the rain had just stopped, and a grey-blue sky was starting to appear from behind the clouds._

_He dropped his shovel to the ground and began walking to his car in response._

_Liz could only follow him._

* * *

><p>The loud voices playing on the television began to lure a certain gang leader out of her deep sleep. It was late afternoon, and Liz had been sleeping for a little over twelve hours. Thankfully, this meant that she had managed to sleep through the massive hangover that she had had a few hours before. Her eyes blinked open and she sat up to look at the recognizable voice that was preaching on the news channel. Monica Hughes echoed through the speakers of the eighties television set, and the caption "Senate launches STAG initiative" was flashing below her. Liz rubbed her forehead and tried her best to comprehend what the woman was saying.<p>

"While no group has taken credit for the attack in Stilwater, we have ignored its root cause. Gangs have been turned into gods in this terrible media culture of ours. Sociopathic gang leaders are now being proclaimed leaders by our youth!" she lectured. Applause followed every paragraph she read.

"Those who were responsible for this act of terror will be found and taken into immediate custody! To do this, we as a Senate have launched the STAG initiative to take back our streets and keep our children safe!" An even bigger wave of cheers spread throughout the Senate meeting, and Liz turned off the television in disgust.

She pulled out the phone to call her crew: it was time to figure out what the hell the STAG initiative was.


	12. Club Crusaders

**I am soooo sorry this is up so late. Once again, I've been struggling with a lot of algebra and exams and crap like that. I absolutely hate not being able to write as much. I'll probably be able to get another thing up this weekend, but I can't make any promises. Maybe if you guys reviewed, I could get things up faster. ;)**

* * *

><p>"The <em>what<em> initiative?" a certain pimp asked. The cold night sent shivers down Liz's spine as she leaned up against an old Steelport warehouse. A cigarette burned between her lips; its smoke fervently escaping and spreading everywhere. Her elder friend had called her up a few hours before claiming to have a huge lead on Morningstar activity. After getting her shit together, she sped out of the old loft and came out to the abandoned building to meet him.

"The STAG initiative. You got anything on it?" she repeated. Zimos gave her a blank stare.

"No idea what it is, baby. I don't watch the news too much." The woman across from him put her cigarette out and sighed. She was beginning to get impatient with the hold the Syndicate had on her new territory. If she wasn't able to get information from her only sources in this town, the Saints would come crashing down. It was a fear she quickly pushed out of her head.

"What's the lead you were talking about again?"

She looked down at the ground and prayed that Zimos had what she was looking for. If she could give the Morningstar a little bit more damage, then they'd almost be gone for good.

The pimp chuckled darkly and began to walk down the alleyway near the warehouse. Hesitantly, the gang leader followed him. Citizens watched and shuddered from afar. Some even had the nerve to take out their cell phones and alert the police of the sneaky activity that was about to occur.

"I'm gonna hook you up big time, girl." he said. A crooked smile appeared on his face as he stopped in front of a large van. It was painted black with extremely gaudy zebra details on the side. Its gold trim and logo that said "Boogie Bus" made it seem like something a person would see back in Stilwater.

"The fuck is that?" she asked as she was handed an invitation. Zimos smiled proudly.

"It's my ride, but that's not important right now. What matters is that that little sheet of paper there will let you kick the Morningstar right in their soft asses."

Liz looked down at what was printed on the cardstock. It seemed to be an invitation to a Morningstar bondage party. Hopefully this one wouldn't be like the last one she had infiltrated.

"So what do I need to do, shoot some assholes until I kill someone important? Or do I just need to pretend to be an eccentric millionaire?" she asked cluelessly. Zimos rolled his eyes behind his glasses.

"Hell no; this is an auction, and you're gonna be up as a sex slave."

The invitation was thrust back into the man's hand.

"Fuck that!" she hissed. Out of all the things she could have done to take down the rival gang, this would probably end up being worse than the pony show disaster. She couldn't say pulling off the role of a sex slave wasn't something she hadn't tried before, but it was something she preferred never to do or mention again.

"Quit being a bitch and get in the van." he hollered. Liz clenched her fists and stepped closer to the man.

"If you honestly think I'm going to let myself get into that shithole willingly, you're out of your fuckin' mind. I'm not going in there even if you _drug_ me." she growled.

She had no idea that what she just said would come back to bite her in only a few hours.

* * *

><p>Out of all the drugs Liz had ever tried, whatever she was on now had to be the strongest drug ever.<p>

After nearly knocking Zimos out in a fit of rage, he had sedated her with a drug cocktail he had procured from Shaundi's exclusive stash. It was a fine mix of anything any kind of druggie would desire.

And, as expected, it was highly dangerous.

Without a care in the world, she stumbled across the classy backroom of the strip club muttering jumbles of words that didn't go together. The world was trippier than she had even imagined; no object was clear or straight.

She lacked any kind of weapons but her fists, which was odd for her. She had never felt so free or alive in her entire life.

"I-I need some more of this shit…" she moaned as she approached a pair of double doors. Even when she squinted, the door spun when she stared at it. After trying multiple times to slap the entrance open, she collapsed onto the marble floor and landed with a hard thud.

Her eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment until the doors opened on their own. In front of her was a totally sober Zimos, who was currently staring down at her in awe.

He knew she could act pretty stupid at time, but acting this dumb seemed to be criminal.

"Here's your guns back." He handed her the closest weapon he could find in the whole club: a pair of dual wield pistols. She smiled and snickered at him.

"Where do I put the ammo?" she asked promiscuously. Zimos only chuckled and handed her an extra box of ammo.

"That's for _you_ to find out."

Liz tried her best to stabilize herself now that she had a gun conveniently placed in her hand. Although she was heavily under the influence, she was still able to load the firearm with ease. After dropping the empty box of ammo, she shoved a few bullets into the pistols and carelessly flung the rest of the metal pellets onto the floor. Gleefully, she took a step forward to fire aimlessly, but a sudden slip sent her catapulting to the floor. She groaned and felt her finger gently push down the trigger, sending a bullet soaring into the room next to her. Zimos looked at her in shock from behind his glasses, and the yells of the Morningstar guards in the room over echoed throughout the club's expansive halls. The gang leader began to laugh hysterically as she shakily stood up. Her friend gave her a look of terror.

"Better start shooting, Boss!" He pulled his own gun from the pocket of his purple suit and began to fire at the men who had just infiltrated the room. He dragged Liz by the arm and fired with his other hand, and soon they got into the next room over.

* * *

><p>The voices of the Morningstar around Liz sounded together in monotonous rhythms. Her mind was finally beginning to get out of its terrible lull. The world began to get a little more uniform, and she was able to stand up slightly straighter. She yanked her arm out of Zimos' grip and began to fire at her opponents. Rapid gunfire surged through the room along with the sound of a loud klaxon.<p>

"Z-Zimos…is that you?" she asked dizzily. Her stomach acids were bubbling and burning the lining of her throat, which meant the drugs were really starting to get to her. The man next to her nodded and blew the head off of a crazed prostitute who was running their way. Once she was unconscious on the floor, the only noise that was audible was the booming bass from the speakers outside the room and the blaring security alarm. Both of the Saints looked around at the sea of dead bodies around them, and it took a while for them to register what to do next.

"The security system." Zimos started. "Go to the computer and turn the damn thing off."

Liz stumbled over a nearby blinking computer screen and nearly tripped over the desk; she was feeling ridiculously queasy, and since she wasn't good with technology in the first place, shutting this thing off was going to require a miracle. Her hands shook as she struggled to see what was in front of her. The lights of the screen made her eyes hurt, and her fingers began to cramp up. She prayed that magic was about to occur as she pressed the enter key on the sleek keyboard. Her eyes slammed shut and the alarm turned off. However, she didn't have much time to celebrate her success. The Saint dropped to her knees and hurled the contents of her stomach onto the floor. It was a murky green color, which caused her to gag even more.

"Get your ass up, girl! We've got more of those bastards coming for us!" Zimos called. Liz stood up from behind the round desk and stumbled over to where he was. The man pushed open the double doors leading out to the actual club. They were shocked to see the large amount of guards in the immense room. Snipers and more Morningstar footmen were all trying to kill them at once, making getting out of the Safeword club alive a very difficult task. As swiftly as they could, the pair began to clear the room out one by one. Crimson liquid was spilling everywhere, occasionally even escaping from their own bodies. They didn't stop until the floor was covered with unmoving corpses. The stench of the many fatalities was beginning to make the room reek of flesh.

Zimos stepped in front of the Boss and began to run down a nearby hallway to the basement entrance. Secretly, he hoped that the bitches of the club would be housed down there. After being trapped in the same area for so long, he had made quite a few friends throughout the expansive cellar. Recruiting the girls for the Saints would be nearly effortless if they could clear out the remaining opponents and override the security. If they were lucky enough, they could even take over the entire Safeword site.

He turned and looked at the exposed woman behind him.

"You're taking this whole naked thing better than I thought you would." he revealed. Liz quickened her pace and opened the metal door in front of her.

"Don't pull shit like this again." she scolded. "At least I don't mind being nude."

Zimos sniggered at her final comment and dashed down the stone stairs behind her. Two flights of stairs later, the shouts of more Morningstar could be heard along with the frightened screams of the entrapped girls. They kicked down the chain link door and reloaded their guns with ammo they had acquired from the countless carcasses from upstairs.

"You ready?" he asked nonchalantly while adjusting his hat.

"Fuck yeah." she replied.

* * *

><p>Liz's hands slammed onto the concrete as a bullets grazed her back. She breathed heavily and eyed the ruby drops of blood that were dripping from all around her unclothed body. They had already taken down the Morningstar in the cellar and freed the girls without any sort of effort. However, they had not expected that disabling the security also meant destroying a large, muscular brute that was hiding in the Safeword garage.<p>

Zimos' body was lying limply beside her own. Her once pale arms were now enflamed with cuts, making crawling to her friend's aid nearly impossible. As carefully as she could, she inched away from the monstrosity of a man that was attacking the two of them. It was nearly impossible to defeat the mini-gun wielding fiend single handedly.

Frantically, she searched for a location that wasn't reachable by the mini-gun. The only temporary spot was behind a sports car that was parked a few feet beside her.

With all the strength she could muster, she grabbed the pimp by the sleeve of his coat and yanked him over to safety. The sounds of the large firearm she was avoiding came to a screeching halt, and a bellowing voice echoed behind her. Inaudible words escaped the ripped brute's mouth, and based on the other sounds he was making, he was approaching the vehicle at a steady rate.

She knew hiding behind a car wasn't going to last very long. The weapon the man had would be able to destroy the vehicle with merely a few rounds.

Knowing that she couldn't do this alone, she could only attempt to wake Zimos up. She shook his body violently until he made some sort of response.

Although he only groaned, she leaned him up against the car door and shoved one of the fallen Morningstar's SMGs into his hands. His eyes opened halfway, and an autotuned croak escaped his lips. As much as it pained her, Liz stood up and kept a firm grip on her own gun.

If she was going to go out now, she was going to go out with a fight like Johnny had.

After reloading another round into her submachine gun, she limped into the direct path of the brute. Before he could turn around, she aimed precisely for his head. She bit her lip and fired round after round into his head, not caring that he had finally noticed her presence. Mini-gun bullets soon penetrated her bare skin, causing her to cry out in pain.

The moments that passed seemed more like hours as her body began to throb more and more. Despite the intensity of the circumstances around her, her aim didn't falter. Her forearms stayed steady while the rest of her body was shaking in absolute anger. Her legs were quivering so harshly that they were near the point of giving out. Her right eye twitched along with her shoulder as her second to last bullet hit the head of her opponent.

"Bastard…" she muttered. With only one bullet left, she had very few options she could choose from. She had done extensive damage to the beast, but she'd need heavier weaponry if she wanted to get the job done fast. Stealing his gun was obviously out of the question, and leaving Zimos defenseless by borrowing his wasn't the right thing to do.

Without even thinking, she put her finger on the trigger and made one final blow to her foe's head. All of her ammo was now gone, and as bloody as he had become, he still wouldn't fall. The grip on her gun became fiercer, and the brute was beginning to stomp closer to her. He put another round into his weapon and let it rip.

Liz refused to think that death was the only option. She slammed her eyes shut and tried to think of a last blow she could give to him; something that would make him fall for good. Pain swarmed her body, leaving her no time to think. In a flash, she tore towards the buff man. A rush of adrenaline surged through her torn body, and the bullets hitting her soon felt like little pinches.

Once she was within feet of the giant, she lunged at him as fast as she could. She uttered a battle cry and landed on his shoulders with a loud thump. He flailed and cursed, but she wouldn't budge. The butt of her gun soon collided with his head. Lost in time, she beat him until her arms were weak, regardless of the hormone rush she had just experienced. Her eyes were slammed shut once again, and each blow that she initiated got stronger and stronger each time.

Before she knew it, she was on the floor, passed out completely. The brute had died minutes before from the severe head trauma that had been dealt to him.

The Saints had just taken over Safeword almost single-handedly.

* * *

><p>"<em>You holding up alright?" she asked. Johnny glanced over at her and rubbed his forehead.<em>

_If he was to tell her the truth, she might actually show some sort of sympathy._

_Sympathy was the _last_ thing he needed right now._

_It had to be at least five in the morning, and the Purgatory was totally empty. It was unusual for the place to be deserted, even for this time of day. The last set of lights that were turned on were the ones near the bar, which happened to be where the pair was sitting. Each of them held a cigarette between their lips, but only Johnny had a beer in his hand. Liz took a final puff and threw the cigarette in the ashtray. The funeral had been over for more than twelve hours, and her friend's mental condition hadn't improved at all. She didn't expect him to have an instant recovery from the death, but a little more emotion from him would have been nice. The old Johnny was lurking somewhere in that body, and she was determined to bring it out no matter now emotionally inept she was._

"_Yeah, whatever." he replied. He cracked his knuckles and took a final swig of his beer before slamming it back on the table. _

_Liz stood up and sighed. She felt like a walking zombie from lack of sleep._

"_That doesn't fuckin' tell me anything. You need to go relax…maybe shoot some shit." she mused. The expression on the Asian man's face lightened at the thought of getting his anger out through a gun. _

"_Where at?" he asked. He fingered at the pistol in his pocket, anxiously waiting to let his anger out with bullets._

"_We don't have a shooting range for nothing, y'know." she said with a smile on her face. Liz slid off the barstool and slinked over to one of the exit doors. She leaned against the doorframe and awaited his response._

_Johnny looked over the subtle curves of her body. He had never really looked at her below the neck very much. As far as he was concerned, she could have had the same body as his and he wouldn't have cared. _

_As he let his eyes wander, he realized that she wasn't all muscle. She had a decent chest and a waist just like any other woman. He had always known that she had had some sort of feminine features, and noticing them was something he had neglected to do. She turned around and opened the door, giving him a good view of her behind. _

"_Damn…" she muttered. "You're totally out of it, aren't you?" she asked. _

_Johnny pulled his gun from out of his pocket._

"_I'm comin'."_

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for that big gap between the infiltration of the basement and the brute fight. And yes, I did make the big brute action scene more difficult on purpose.<em><br>_**


	13. Near Death

**Well, hopefully I'm out of my temporary slump so I can give you guys better chapters! I'm so, so, so sorry for the long wait for this. I wrote it over two days and I know it's not my best, but school ends in two days and then I'll be able to write full time and get really long chapters. This one was only five pages long, which annoys the heck out of me, but I felt like I did the best I could and I needed to get this up tonight. So, please enjoy and REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

* * *

><p>Shaundi sighed impatiently as the dial tone droned repetitively on her cell phone.<p>

It was precisely ten in the morning, which wasn't her favorite time in the world to be awake on this particular day. Saturdays were normally her one off day where she could do whatever the hell she wanted to do without the Boss knowing. It wasn't like she was annoyed by her superior; she just required one day to herself each week. As diva-like as it sounded, the former hippy believed her friend should be doing the same. However, today was different.

After vegging out in her private loft the evening before, she had realized something felt off. A feeling of overall unusualness had fallen over her large apartment after she had woken up. It had hit her a few minutes before when she was busy reading over her emails. The electronic words began to blur together and her hand had automatically reached in her pocket for her phone.

She had the HQ on speed dial, although she knew nobody ever answered the phone there. At this point, the line was nearly obsolete; Liz was the only one who had elected to keep it. Some of the Saints had no idea they even had a home line in the penthouse, which is why most calls would get ignored. The ringing would always get caught in the loud music or parties that were constantly going on at the large crib. As expected, they didn't answer at all, causing Shaundi to throw her phone on her white and purple leather couch. She stared at the shiny, metallic device that was covered by an official Saints' phone cover. A feeling of uneasiness was still lurking in her stomach and she reluctantly picked the phone up again. The first person she thought to call after the HQ was the Boss. As surprised as she would be to hear her from her at this hour, knowing that everything would be alright would most likely calm her nerves.

Liz's phone number was another one of the many numbers she had on speed dial. After pressing the touchpad a few times, she tapped her manicured fingernails impatiently on the side of the couch as the phone rang and rang. She knew something would be off if her friend didn't answer her phone.

"She's got that piece of shit on her all the time…how could she not answer?" she asked herself mentally. A minute went by and the phone still had not gone to voicemail. Shaundi immediately thought the worst had happened.

The lieutenant's instant instinct told her to track the phone down. She bit down on her tongue and looked back down to her laptop. There was no way that the Boss could have died. The last she had heard from her was yesterday afternoon. She had said something about raiding a strip club with their new pimp ally, but she had mentioned something else.

The thought of Liz being torn apart by the Morningstar shot through her head like a bullet. As much as she wanted to think that it wouldn't happen, she remembered back to what had happened with Johnny.

She tossed her laptop onto the couch and stood up confidently. After lacing up her boots and throwing on her cutoff leather jacket, she strode out to her garage. Shaundi eyed her purple Torch and quickly got in.

She knew she was probably overreacting, but she couldn't lose another friend to the Morningstar.

She wouldn't let it happen ever again.

* * *

><p>A flash of purple cars were surrounding Safeword. Cars were backed up throughout the neighborhood of Rosen Oaks as crowds of Saints began to spill out of the strip club's parking lot. Word of the events of the previous night had gotten out quicker than the Morningstar would have liked. The news had reached the Saints almost instantly, and a bloody rampage against the Syndicate had officially begun that morning. Even more dead red and black bodies had shown up around Steelport by dawn, and the Morningstar lieutenants were less than pleased with what had happened.<p>

Some of the Saints had came to the club to scope out the new place they had conquered, while others were genuinely concerned about the state the Boss was in. A large group of them had arrived at the scene initially before the large influx of people had come. It had taken them a while to find Liz passed out along with Zimos, but after giving the place a full inspection they wouldn't be able to figure out what had happened until she woke up.

Even Kinzie Kensington had made her way out of her "Inner Sanctum" to see the commotion that was going on. The large purple haze made her shiver, but now wasn't the time to be intimidated by crowds. She was one of the first to know what had happened to the Boss the evening before, and the head Saints had unanimously voted to have her come down and investigate the scene.

She scoffed under her breath for a moment. Just because she had worked for the FBI didn't mean she was good at reading crime scenes. She had done it before and had been properly trained, but she felt like maybe getting a real professional instead of making her actually work would have been a significantly better alternative.

The place wasn't exactly what she would consider a perfect crime scene, anyway. Morningstar bodies had already been hauled away for the most part. Dry pools of blood and bullet holes in the drywall were mainly what was left of the evidence. Besides, even if she did do a full sweep of the place, the Boss would just take one look at it and then ignore it. These kinds of things seemed like nothing to her.

The largest pieces of evidence that hadn't been recovered were the torpid bodies of Liz and Zimos. Both of them had sustained minor injuries, and according to the other Saints, they would be waking up shortly.

Kinzie pushed past the loud and purple clad crowd to get into the main doors of Safeword. It had been a while since she had been there personally, and her experiences there had left her with quite a few bumps and bruises. She shivered once again and stepped inside the club. After pushing through the lobby she pulled a netbook out of her pocket to attempt to find a halfways decent internet connection. Her eyes focused on the laptop in front of her as she bumped into a fellow gang member. He gave her an odd look at pointed towards one of the winding staircases that took up a lot of space in the large room.

"We found 'em up there. Not sure why there ain't any blood, though. Some dudes think they got moved, but I dunno, man." he said. Kinzie gave him a quick glance before starting up the staircase. The man merely shook his head in misunderstanding and watched her trek up to one of the chambers upstairs.

* * *

><p>"…and that's what fucking happened. I don't remember anything else."<p>

Kinzie stared at the disoriented woman sitting in front of her. Liz blinked a few times and pushed her matted hair out of her face. She was nursing a busted lip and a few cuts to the face, along with a few broken ribs. Or, at least that's what she thought had happened to her. Kinzie typed something in on her small computer and then resumed her lingering stare. Apparently a large brute had knocked Zimos out and the Boss had to take the unrealistic creature out herself.

"That's it? That's all that happened?" the shorter woman asked. Liz furrowed her eyebrows.

"Why, there something wrong with it? I can't remember shit!" she replied. Kinzie sighed and closed her computer for the first time since she got there.

"All of this commotion because of one little incident? Not even the FBI was this crazy." Kinzie said. The gang leader stood up and limped to the door of the gross looking room. Luxurious red fabric covered the walls, and a stained king sized bed sat in the middle of the room along with a few torturous devices. She frowned and turned back to Kinzie.

"It's what we do." She said with a glare. "Saints stick up for each other. You should start doing it too, sweetie."

And, with that, the fiery leader was gone in a flash.

"What about Zimos?" Kinzie called down the hallway. She heard the heeled footsteps stop and then turn around.

"Whatever." the other woman said while walking in the direction of Zimos' holding room.

The techie sighed and opened her laptop again.

"She's so damn complicated…"

* * *

><p><em>Liz mentally checked off the names of her Stilwater hit list in her head.<em>

_First it was the General, and then it was Shogo and Kazuo Akuji. With the help of Gat, Shaundi, Pierce and the crew, Stilwater was nearly theirs. The Ronin and the Sons of Samedi had been wiped out only a few weeks ago, but the Boss wasn't one to stop early. She only had one more target in her way._

_She had her eyes set on Maero, leader of the Brotherhood._

_It was a very lofty goal that seemed nearly impossible to reach. Maero led the Brotherhood, which had to be the strongest gang in Stilwater. As much as Liz wanted to prove that fact wrong, the Saints weren't stronger than their last remaining rival. If anything, they were at an equal level_ _of power._

_Liz sat on the edge of her bed and checked her clock. _

"_Six fucking AM?" she groaned and squinted at the Playboy calendar on her wall. As much as she hated looking at the picture of naked girls, it was a running gag she had with Johnny. He kept a Playgirl one in his room for shits and giggles._

"_June…" she mumbled. It had been many months since Aisha died. Rainy weather had turned hot and dry, and running around on the streets of Stilwater was beginning to be a pain._

_After checking the clock again to make sure it was really so early, she stripped down and changed into some fresh clothes before going downstairs. _

_The heat had been preventing her from wearing her more favorable clothes, including her leather jacket. Nowadays, the only thing she could wear without getting a heat stroke was cutoff shorts and tank tops. She had even pulled her hair back a few times, which was more refreshing than she would have imagined. Even though her hair only went about a half foot past her shoulders, not having her heavy locks covering her definitely made her escapades around Stilwater a little easier. _

_Lazily, she kicked her door open and started walking down the double staircase of the Purgatory. She glanced around quickly and made a beeline for the couch. A high Shaundi was spread out all over the large sectional and was smoking another joint._

"_Boss, c'mere!" she squealed. Even Liz smiled at her joyous tone; seeing Shaundi high could make anyone amused even if it was six in the morning._

"_You got anything else on the Samedi?" she asked half jokingly. She sauntered over to the couch and waited for a response._

_Shaundi coughed and looked up at Liz with dilated pupils._

"_O'course!" she replied. "Don't ya remember when we killed the General at that mall? I think that scared the rest of 'em off." _

"_So you've seen none lingering around?" Liz continued. _

"_I've seen a few, but I think I was pretty damn stoned…they could've been trees or somethin'." Shaundi mused. _

"_Trees?" the Boss asked. How Shaundi was able to confuse men and women dressed up in green with trees was something she would never be able to figure out._

"_They're both green!" the hippie defended. Liz only chuckled and patted Shaundi on the shoulder. _

"_I want whatever you're smoking." she said. With a lazy smile on her face, Shaundi pulled another joint out of her pocket._

"_Here, just have fun with it. I got plenty more."_

* * *

><p><strong>Ugh...I didn't edit this before posting, so if there's any major grammatical mistakes, can anyone tell me?<em><br>_**


	14. Morning After

**I'm so sorry for not having this up earlier...I'm just starting to get into my summer writing routine and getting back into writing longer chapters is hard. Now that I got this out of the way I should be able to put out chapters regularly. Please enjoy this one, because it took a week to write. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! IT MEANS A LOT!**

* * *

><p>After hours of being asleep, a very tired Zimos lifted his sunglasses up and rubbed the bridge of his aching nose. The events from the night before flooded back into his memory as he sat up to survey the room around him. His jacket was covered with small patches of blood, which had healed over the long hours he had been knocked out. From what he could tell, he was in one of the specialty rooms at Safeword. Hesitantly, he stood up and grabbed his golden microphone cane that was lying near him and ventured out of his room. Other Saints were congregated everywhere around him, which could only mean one thing: the Boss was alive and the DeWynter sisters had been robbed of their premiere strip club.<p>

A smirk made its way onto the old pimp's face when he spotted a small bunch of newly freed hos climbing up the stairs. Clad in new purple outfits, they struggled with their stilettos and giggled loudly while they got closer to him. The group of girls looked up at their new pimp, who was currently leaning against the doorframe of his temporary room. He tipped his hat and signaled for them to come over. They greatly obliged and hooked onto his arm. Just as they began to saunter into his room, a deep chuckle came from a few feet away from the door. The girls stopped sniggering and looked up to see who had caused the disturbance.

"You don't wait too long to get to know the new girls, do you?" she asked. A sly grin was spread across the Boss' face as she looked at the scene in front of her. The new girls couldn't be more than twenty one and were literally hanging off the older man's arm like slaves. The arrangement would have sickened most sane people. Liz shrugged the situation off. It was a position she had been all too familiar with when she had been even younger than them. The job might have been disgraceful, but it certainly paid all of her expenses.

"Gotta warm them up a little." he replied. The tall woman looked over her friend and saw the stains covering his jacket. She had already cleaned up her own wounds in the public restroom on the first floor, which was yet another Safeword experience that she hoped to forget.

The girls in front of her tittered nervously and excitedly as their new boss began to enter the bedroom behind him. He gave the leader a quick wink before closing and locking the door. Liz turned on her heel and made her way to the stairs; hearing Zimos get down to business was the last thing she would want to hear. Despite her chipper mood, her head was throbbing from the loud sounds from the crowds of people around her. Loud electronica had also begun playing around her again, and the strippers soon got back to their handiwork. Crowds of Saints all around her nodded their heads or tipped their sideways baseballs caps while she strode down the stairs. She nodded back at them and headed towards the main lobby. Recovering from the night before would be easy if she could just crash at the penthouse and pop a few pills and drink a quarter keg. Smiling, she opened the wide double doors and let sunlight cascade onto her light skin. For a short moment, she closed her eyes and enjoyed another rare moment of relaxation. As usual, it was short lived.

A familiar set of hands landed harshly on her shoulder and shook her. Liz opened her eyes and glared at the woman in front of her.

"The fuck are you doing?" she growled. Her eyes readjusted, allowing her to see that a very affronted Shaundi was standing in front of her. The lieutenant's manicured nails had moved and were now resting firmly on her hips.

"You had me worried sick!" she hissed. "Why weren't you answering your damn phone?"

Liz raised an eyebrow at her friend's pressuring questions. Today was _supposed_ to ne Shaundi's day off; why she had come here was unfathomable to her. Never before had she freaked out when she couldn't get in contact with any of the other Saints before.

"Maybe it's because she's not stoned all the time now…I don't remember her being so fuckin' anxious back in Stilwater." she thought to herself. Shaundi's glare pierced through her thoughts and commanded attention.

"What are you doing just standing around, aren't you hurt or something? If you're not, we need to get the ball rolling and start getting on the Syndicate more." she continued.

Liz took a step towards her lieutenant with a heated look on her face. No other Saint had spoken to her like that in years. If anything, it sounded like something Julius would have said to her back in Stilwater. With their inches faces apart, she could smell the perfume radiating off of the other woman. They were still locked in a tight death stare; neither of them looked willing to turn away until the other said something.

Shaundi stepped a few inches back and crossed her arms, awaiting a response. With a sigh, the Boss leaned back and took a cigarette out of her pocket.

"Watch your damn mouth, you know how it can get you into trouble." she answered coolly. Liz brought the rolled tobacco to her lips and fished through her pockets for her lighter. "I didn't see your ass in there last night helping me clear out that whole shithole."

The other woman clenched her fists and looked the Boss over. She did look like she had taken a decent beating the night before, which she would give her credit for. Busting into a BDSM club wasn't exactly her style, nor would she have wanted to do it if Liz had asked her to. Cigarette smoke billowed into her face and filled her lungs graciously. A sigh escaped her mouth as she took out her phone from her pocket.

"Whatever, I was just concerned." she said reluctantly. Even _she_ wasn't completely sure why she had reacted the way she did. "The last thing the Saints need is for you to end up like Johnny. You sure you don't want the boys doing things like this for us?"

"I can't do things myself anymore?" she asked rhetorically. Shaundi opened her mouth to reply, but was rapidly cut off.

"You really think I'm gonna turn into one of those bosses that doesn't do shit? I call my boys when I really need them, and puttin' them in danger is the last thing I want to do." she said. "It was just another close call, Shaundi. You don't need to worry."

"Just a close call?" the shorter woman asked. Her tone was semi-sarcastic, but also very serious. "Just be more careful, alright?"

Shaundi turned on her heel and began to stride back to her car. Without hesitation, Liz followed behind her. Leaving on bad terms with her number one girl was going to come back to bite her if the issue wasn't resolved. Shaundi's bright purple pumps clicked on the asphalt in unison with Liz's as she went to open the door to her Torch. A hand gently touched her right shoulder as soon as the door opened. She turned her head slightly and saw her pursuer.

"What?"

"Thanks for being concerned." Liz said with a devious smile. "I didn't see Pierce hauling his ass out here this morning." She took a drag on her cigarette and threw it onto the pavement. After smashing it with her stiletto heel, she looked back up at her friend. She had gotten back into her car and was about ready to drive off.

"I do what I can."

The car roared to life in a matter of seconds. "I gotta go read my next show script, we'll catch up later." Within a minute, the vehicle had sped away, and Liz was heading to her own car and dreaming about the quarter keg that was waiting back at the penthouse.

* * *

><p>"<em>You sure you wanna go after that son of a bitch?" Johnny asked. He glanced over at the Boss, who was sitting next to him at the Purgatory's infamous bar. She rolled her eyes and shrugged.<em>

"_What else can we do? He's the only one standing in our way." Liz sipped on her nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels and gave Gat an indifferent look._

"_But do you really wanna go yourself?" _

_The woman gave him a stern look and threw her head back to finish off the bottle. _

"_I gotta do this for Carlos. What happened to him won't happen to any of my boys ever again." she muttered. She launched the bottle behind the bar and they both heard it collide into a million pieces on the ground. Sorrow and anger dripped from her voice whenever she talked about Carlos; even Johnny was able to see it. _

_He was never able to decipher the relationship between the Boss and the former lieutenant. They had something that he knew he had never possessed with Liz. Carlos was more of a younger brother; he was inferior, younger, but very passionate. Following in the Boss' footsteps also seemed to be something he aspired to do. Johnny thought of himself for a moment. He didn't fit any of the traits that Carlos had. He was older, strong, cocky, and a damn good gangbanger if he had anything to say about it. He hadn't been jealous of the younger man, but the way the Boss would baby him made her look so absurdly out of character. Sympathy hadn't been one of her strong points._

_However, Carlos was different. _

"_Hey, if you need backup, you know who to call." he said with a half smile. Liz stood up and stretched before leaning up against the bar. _

"_Of course, I'll just call Shaundi." she teased. Johnny stood up and punched her shoulder. _

"_You're kidding, right? The girl can't even shoot five feet in front of her face!"_

"_Yeah, I am kidding." She punched his shoulder back and headed towards the double staircase. "She's got a better shot than you'd think."_

"_Whatever you say, Boss."_

* * *

><p>Saints that regularly inhabited the penthouse headquarters had gotten used to the shenanigans that usually went on there. Since it was the Boss' main residence, things tended to get hectic very fast. Although she was no party animal, she tried her best to encourage enthusiasm throughout the day. Whether it was loud parties or endless drinking games, most of the Saints were nearly up for anything. It was expected that one loud incident was likely to occur at least once a day in the headquarters. With that many crazy people in one place, it was bound to happen.<p>

Today was a little different.

The second floor of the penthouse had been dead quiet the whole entire morning. The rest of the Saints had heard of the incident the night before and had also seen Liz carry up a leftover keg from a recent party. Some had also sworn they saw a bag of weed or some pills. Small whispers came from the gangbangers hanging out on the main floor, but nobody had the nerve to go and knock on their boss' door.

Despite their fears, the situation going on inside was much different than what they expected.

* * *

><p>A half empty pill bottle and a totally empty keg of beer were one of the many things littering Liz's floor. A few shattered glasses, well read magazines, and a remote were lingering on the dirty wood floor as well. An old rerun of Nyte Blayde droned on the television as Liz felt the beginning of a hangover droop over her already hurting body. It was late afternoon now, and her stomach was lurching in her body. Truthfully, she was starving, but the thought of eventually heaving it up made her quiver in her seat. "I've fought so hard... lost so much. Is it wrong to want to be happy? Grr, get a hold of yourself Nyte Blayde! You're a vampire - there's no room for love in your world! I am Nyte Blayde!"<p>

The obnoxious voice of Josh Burke continuously blared through the flat screen, making Liz's thought of taking more ibuprofen more appealing. She hadn't counted the amount of tablets she had taken; based on her previous experiences it was enough to keep her dizzy. A small bag of weed sat on her nightstand along with a lighter and an empty glass. It also appealed to her more than the idea of fishing around for the remote, which was lying somewhere on the messy floor.

She sighed heavily and tried her best to block all electronics out of her thoughts. After what had happened the night before, she couldn't help but wonder what would become of her gang. The Morningstar had put up a fight that could give the Saints a run for their money. One wrong move on her part could send them tumbling back to Stilwater.

Pushing the image out of her head, she finally reflected on her accomplishment that previous night. A major stronghold was now her territory. A smile crept its way onto her face, and she leaned back against her bed frame.

"Things'll work out…" she mumbled to herself. As she reached over to her nightstand to grab her lighter, a badgering combination of ringing and vibrating was coming from her phone. In a huff, she grabbed it as slowly as she could and answered it.

"What?" she barked. A familiar melodic voice could be heard on the other side of the line.

"Relax, baby. I've got some new shit for us to take care of." Zimos explained. Liz rolled her eyes and nearly crushed the dinky phone in her hand.

"You're nearly dead and you're already looking for more shit to do? You sound like me." she said, half jokingly.

"C'mon, I'm not playin'. Why don't we just kick the Morningstar's asses already?"

Liz nearly smiled at his eagerness. "What are we going to do, shoot at them until they leave?"

"That was I was thinking." he replied.

"That's not much of a plan…but I can go with it."

Knowing that she would have to get out of bed, she gently maneuvered herself onto her feet and went to the television to turn off the vile program that was still playing. Before she could wrap up her conversation with Zimos, another person beeped in to the conversation.

"Shit…hang on, Z." She pushed the talk button again and answered her next caller.

"What?" she asked.

"If you want some intel on the Morningstar, go to the docks. They're getting a fresh shipment of girls at the end of the hour." the voice said. The familiarity of the woman's voice shocked Liz; who was this person, and why would she give the Saints this kind of info without being affiliated with them?

"Thanks for the business tip, sweetie, but who the hell are you?" she said snarkly. The woman on the other end scoffed loudly.

"Viola DeWynter."

Being able to identify a face with a name caused blood to surge through Liz's veins. Viola DeWynter: the businesswoman who was her competition and the whore that killed her friend. Why she would be giving intel to the Saints would puzzle anyone.

"Is this a fucking trap?" Liz growled.

"Why don't you go see for yourself?" she answered. The Morningstar member hung up unexpectedly, and making a proper choice on whether or not to take the intel seemed to be impossible.

Considering the Boss' history with boats and the artillery she currently had on hand, she made a hasty decision.

It was time to go to the docks.


	15. Regretful Encounters

**Wow, I honestly have no excuse for taking so long to write this. I feel terrible for taking almost a month to get this up, but not getting many reviews also isn't helping, either. I feel like I've lost a majority of my reviewing audience, and that's mostly my fault from lack of updates. Hopefully I can get my crap together and get things up faster. _Please, review review review!_**

* * *

><p>A freshly lit cigarette hung from Liz's lips as she looked out over the docks of Steelport. A large boat was pulling in, and if her new intel was correct, she had some precious cargo aboard. She sat down on the rotten wood dock and sighed. If Viola DeWynter was lying to her, she hoped that the consequences wouldn't be as great as she was expecting. After all, she was the bitch that had killed her friend and attempted to leave the Saints with thirty three percent of their total income. However, if she hadn't been lying, she could instantly have a massive new asset in her hands.<p>

There was no time to consider backing out now. Liz picked up a pair of lone binoculars that a tourist must have left ages ago. They were slightly rusted but worked well nonetheless. She squinted carefully and looked at the boat inching towards the docks.

"It won't be that hard…" she mumbled to herself. After zooming in a bit more, she could see Morningstar men shoving the poor girls into sealed crates. They howled loudly and resisted to no avail; the gangsters smacked them inside regardless of their efforts. A scowl worked its way onto the Boss' face as she put the binoculars down. She threw them back to where they were and turned to see Zimos approaching her. A cigarette was stuck in the hole in his throat, causing Liz to put her own out.

"A lotta pussy on that boat." he mused. "How you planning on movin' them?"

Liz leaned on the rotted wood barrier that separated her from the polluted Steelport sea. The boat was starting to get a little too close to port. That meant there was no time to formulate a good plan.

"I'll worry about it later. I just wanna meet my new employees."

She pushed the flimsy railing down into the water, causing the hobos all around her to stare. Zimos followed her to the main dock, shaking his head.

"You brought me here without a plan…the fuck you thinkin'?" he asked. Liz hopped onto the back of a small speedboat and patted the seat behind her.

"Why do you care? Haven't all my plans gone better than yours?" Zimos frowned and ignored the snarky but true comment. His last plan involving hos didn't exactly go as he had wanted it to. He hesitantly boarded the boat, which was much too cramped for his liking. Before he could get his bearings, the Boss sped off towards her cargo. A melodic screech escaped the hole in his trachea, and the boat picked up speed. Liz ignored his guttural noises and proceeded towards the boat, silently hoping that it wasn't a trap.

* * *

><p>"That's the last of 'em!" called a suited man. The boat he was on swayed heavily on the Steelport waves, making his stomach lurch. Being a new Morningstar recruit like himself wasn't a very fun job; he was left to do the dirty work the lieutenants never wanted to do.<p>

He had been warned about the things that might happen while he was on the job. When he first volunteered to be part of the glamorous Syndicate, he had only expected to be up against the weak police force protecting the already crime infested town.

Nobody had ever told him about the Saints.

More experienced and higher up Morningstar worked around him to secure their new girls into the industrial crates. To civilians, it was a cruel sight. For this man, it was his job.

Thoughts of Saint intrusion swarmed throughout his head as he worked to check the crates one last time. He had heard rumors of info about their shipment getting out. It was just a matter of time before the rival gang figured out about the boat.

He shook his head and doubted himself; there was no way a few Saints would be able to board the ship. They were just a small time gang from Stilwater. If you took the energy drinks and lunchboxes away, you'd see a washed up druggie, a crazy black guy, a sociopath leader and some random men dressed in purple. They didn't even have Johnny Gat going for them anymore.

The shaky man jumped when he heard the sound of gunfire coming from the other side of the boat. He could hear the accented voices of his colleagues calling for cover. He felt frozen in his position; the unbearable sensation of bile sneaking up his throat began to get to him and he clutched the crate locks in a panic. One by one, he felt the sensation of each of his fellow Morningstar dropping to the ground nearby.

His knuckles were turning white from the crate locks. As his breathing increased, so did his adrenaline and mental capacity. If he was able to stop these Saints, he would secure a spot in a higher up position. He might even be recognized by Killbane himself.

The man swallowed his fear and snuck his cell phone out of his pocket. The sound of gunfire had ceased entirely, which could only mean one thing.

He was the last one on the boat.

He immediately dialed the number to his gang's HQ. He could hear the clacking of heels on the metal boat floor, making the rings feel even longer than they were.

When someone finally answered, the overwhelming sense of fear took over his body once more.

"Saints are on the boat! They're-"

The sound of a bullet smashing into his skull interrupted his plea to his superiors. His phone flew to the ground, cracking the touch screen and promptly ending the call. A man and a woman clad in purple were soon a few feet away from his bleeding body.

Like he had feared, Liz and Zimos had successfully infiltrated the cargo ship.

"That was pretty smooth, Z." she hollered as she gleefully ran over to the crates. Zimos chuckled and followed slowly after her. He stopped for a moment and picked up the phone his opponent had been holding.

"He called for help…"

The pimp's eyes slowly drifted over to the body, which had blood dripping from its temple. A look of satisfaction graced his face, and he moved on to help Liz with the crates.

"They got more boys comin' in, better open those crates faster. Once you open 'em, bring the girls to me." he said. The Boss scoffed and opened a crate that was filled with RPG ammo.

"Let's hope they see it that way…" she mumbled.

* * *

><p>One by one, the girls kept on flocking over to Zimos like sheep looking for their shepherd. Liz snuck glances at them between killing backup Morningstar and opening crates, and they looked surprisingly comfortable with their new pimp.<p>

She had been coming across some very awkward finds in the large metal boxes; other than girls, they were filled with ammo, bondage toys, and a brute or two. Killing the brutes sent shivers down her spine after what had happened during her last encounter with one. The thought of shoving _them_ into boxes was something she'd rather not have to ever see or do.

After emptying all of the never ending stacked crates, Liz came to the conclusion that Viola really hadn't been lying. At least twenty girls were now property of the Saints.

Now they just had to get them out of here.

"They're getting' pissed!" Zimos called. The Boss turned her attention down to her lieutenant, who was still basking in the crowd of women surrounding him. A helicopter and multiple boats could be seen racing towards the ship. Dots of red and black populated the smaller boats, which could only mean one thing: the Morningstar were pretty damn pissed.

She gave Zimos a fast nod and then looked at the mini-gun that was resting near a crate beside her. It was the only working firepower she had to devour a mini army of boats and a few helicopters. With all her strength she picked it up and centered it on her first target: one of the helicopters.

"Hello beautiful…" she purred. She mentally reminded herself to add a few of the mini-guns to her personal arsenal of weapons back at the HQ and then proceeded to the north platform to get a better aim. Before she could shoot more than a few bullets, an annoying ringtone came from her pocket. She groaned and picked up her phone.

"I ain't getting any closer until you knock those motherfuckers out!" Pierce protested. Liz looked up and saw a familiar helicopter getting steadily closer.

"Did Zimos call you?" she asked. She knew now wasn't the time to be asking questions like this, but annoying Pierce with them could get funny in situations like this.

"I don't got time for your shitty questions, Boss! Get rid of the Morningstar so I can pick you up!"

He hung up before Liz could say anything else. She sighed and got back to work.

* * *

><p>Helicopters dropped one by one from the sky, frightening the girls hovering near Zimos. He fired a few bullets in return to help the Boss every once in a while. Boat explosions rocked the boat and the screams of the girls got even louder until Liz gave Zimos a thumbs up.<p>

"Pierce is on his way!" she called. "I'm kinda feeling a little set up, though!"

"Morningstar always protect their shipment. They don't mess around." he replied. He watched as she dropped the now useless mini-gun.

The Saints' chopper began to approach slowly and Liz hopped on.

"Go with Pierce and load up the girls, I'll keep you covered from the air."

Her words nearly got lost in the wind, but an affirmative nod from Zimos was a good enough sign that he understood. She hopped ungracefully onto the chopper and grabbed the RPG that was resting on the edge.

It was time to have a little fun with the Morningstar.

* * *

><p>After killing at least seventy boats and snipers, Liz was no longer airborne. Transporting the hos was unexpectedly hard; Pierce carried them in an open crate with the helicopter. She wasn't sure why they had not fallen or gotten shot at, but it was a question she could save for later.<p>

Another surprising highlight from her flight was a call from a British man. He had an offer even Liz could barely resist. He had offered to buy the girls back for almost twice as much as they were worth. As wonderful as twenty five thousand dollars sounded, the trouble she went through to get to the girls wouldn't have been paid off. She hung up on whoever the man was and tried her best to forget about the large sum that could have been waiting for her. Zimos really needed the girls and it would be completely better in the long run.

The Boss strode quickly into the penthouse as soon as the chopper had hit the helipad. She was tired, hungry, and a bit too sober for her liking. She chose to only act on the last issue and headed towards the large upstairs bar to see what was in stock. Saints from all branches of the gang made small talk with her as she grabbed a few bottles of beer from the mini fridge underneath the bar. She gave them a nod or a hint of a smile before retreating back downstairs to the couch. Nonchalantly, she pulled out her phone and checked her messages. She had missed two calls from Viola.

"Those are two calls I'm never returning…" she thought to herself as she sipped on her beer thoughtfully. She got through three of her bottles before dozing off slowly.

* * *

><p><em>The sound of a bullet colliding with Maero's head had to be the most satisfying thing she had heard all year. Despite being battered and bruised from being run over and shot at, Liz had managed to put a bullet in her last enemy's head. The retribution she had been seeking for Carlos had finally been achieved, and that was a feeling that she would never be able to replace. <em>

_Ultimately, Maero had come to her the day before by calling and requesting a showdown at the Ultor Dome at sundown. The thing seemed so cliché and on cue, but she couldn't deny it. It felt like the right time and place to tear him apart one on one. It turned out that it wasn't exactly what Liz had had in mind._

_Monster trucks and massive SUVs filled with the last loyal Brotherhood members were at the arena to greet her. They defended Maero to the final blow and had a decent chance of winning. If the Saints had sent someone else, the Brotherhood might have even won._

_Liz knew she couldn't allow that to happen. _

_As she walked out of the Ultor Dome, she looked over her shoulder at the destruction. Overturned cars had lit on fire and the dirt jumps had begun to disintegrate. Maero's body could be seen bleeding under wreckage. She bit her already bleeding lip and limped out to her car. As much as she loved driving, it pained her to have to drive back to the Purgatory. She put the key in the ignition and listened to the car roar to life. _

_A subtle ringing noise came from the glove box. She had made the stupid choice of leaving in there even though Johnny and Pierce warned her to take it with her inside. The phone was soon in her hand and she answered the call gruffly._

"_What?" she barked._

"_You make it out alright? Is he dead?"_

_The man's accent made his identity a little obvious. She managed to smile a little bit and turned out into the streets of Stilwater to go home._

"_I don't know why you worry so much. I shot 'em dead." she replied smoothly. The Asian man on the other line snickered darkly._

"_I'm not surprised. You wanna get your ass back here so we can party it up?" he asked. He got no response for a few moments, which surprised him greatly. She grunted and quickly responded after the brief silence._

"_Yeah, go let loose a bit. The boys need a little fun."_

_Johnny sensed that something was wrong in her voice. The Boss was always hard to read, but now seemed to be even worse. Whether it was physical or mental pain, he knew he would never know about it unless he asked._

"_Tired?" he asked._

"_Mm." was the only response she gave. "I'll be there in a bit. Open a keg for me."_

_A sequence of beeping followed her final sentence, signaling to Johnny that she had hung up. He scooted out of Liz's desk chair and went down into the main living area of the Purgatory. If he didn't have any shit to take care of while she was out, he'd always sneak into her office and lounge around. Occasionally he'd play a few mundane shooter games on her laptop until a stripper came in and entertained him._

_The gangsters that were already there looked at Johnny hopefully. They all knew about the confrontation the Boss was going to have with Maero, and they had all been eagerly awaiting the outcome._

_Johnny went behind the bar and pulled out a keg that was resting on the floor._

"_The bitch is dead." he said with a confident smile. Cheers ran through the crowd of Saints as they all swarmed the bar for a celebratory drink. Johnny poured a glass of beer for himself and strode over to the couch. Instead of a coffee table in front of it, a stripper pole adorned the middle of the room. He propped his feet up on the edge of the platform and looked at the promiscuous woman dancing in front of him. She gave him a smug smile and leaned in towards him. The man took a sip of his beer and sighed happily._

"_This is the fuckin' life." _


	16. Gang Bang

**See, I do update faster now! And yes, I know it's been a two week gap, but this chapter is extremely long. I'm not sure how it got this long...it just did. I apologize for any minor errors; I wanted to get this up ASAP to see if I can get more viewers/reviewers. _PLEASE REVIEW, IT MEANS SO MUCH AND IT KEEPS THIS STORY GOING!_**

* * *

><p>Days had been droning on very slowly in the Saints' Steelport headquarters. Nothing interesting had come up other than the newly arrived hos. Zimos had gratefully allowed them to visit the penthouse a few days before, and it proved to be very motivational to the boys and some of the chicks that spent their time there. The happiness wore off, though, and the days dragged on without much entertainment.<p>

Liz spent her time memorizing the contents of the liquor stash in the bar and watching Pierce play fierce chess matches against Oleg. The novelty of Steelport was beginning to wear off, and running around the city's streets didn't feel as promising anymore. It was hard to believe the two men actually had something in common. Long competitive chess games went on between them in the main room of the HQ when neither of them had much to do. After a few days, a clear winner still hadn't been decided. Match after match produced grueling ties.

The Boss didn't watch the matches for the chess. The only real entertainment was the facial expressions of the two contenders and the snarky remarks they made towards each other. She couldn't help but snicker when one of them took a major blow.

Currently, it was nearing the end of a less than amusing Friday night. Liz propped her feet on the edge of the glass battleground. Oleg and Pierce sat on either side of her, both with puzzled looks plastered onto their faces. Tension built up from the silence rather quickly, and the only actions between the three were the moving of chess pieces.

A loud crash of thunder came from outside and Liz's foot jerked up in surprise. The boys looked up at her and then looked down at the table, which was now lacking a chessboard.

"You even know how much shit I had on that game?!" Pierce asked angrily. The Boss shrugged and watched as rain poured down on the helipad and into the pool. The sky had turned to a breathtaking purple-coral gradient, making Steelport's skyline appear a little friendlier than usual.

Piece sighed and shook his head. He could have had a million dollars on that game and the Boss probably wouldn't have cared.

He hadn't really seen her without a thing to do since when they were banging in Stilwater. It had only been a few short months ago, but they felt like an eternity. Back in those days Johnny would usually occupy her if there was nothing to do. If he wasn't there, Pierce would usually hit up a strip club with her.

With those days long gone, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the woman he used to know. The subtle changes that had happened over just a few months had astonished everyone.

He looked down at his own clean white suit and wondered how much he had changed. Was he still a badass behind the freshly pressed suit and record deal? Was Shaundi still a hippie-vixen turned banger under her makeup and hair extensions? Was the Boss still a respectable force hidden by a few curlers and designer clothes? He also wondered if Johnny had really been in for it for the respect and not the money and "ass tasting" energy drinks.

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts and looked up as Liz said something to Oleg.

"What's your opinion on Viola DeWynter?" she asked. The Russian man chuckled and stood up. Pierce put his feet next to the Boss' on the glass table and relaxed a little.

"This oughta be interesting…" he thought.

"Personally, I think she's a useless whore. However, professionally, she may have something valuable for the Saints. That is, if we can trust her." His voice had a booming power about it that controlled the room. It wasn't because of his size, either. The man had a great intelligence about him; a trait Liz envied deeply. She stood up and strode over to Oleg with a sneer on her face.

"The bitch has been calling me left and right all week. She said something 'bout meeting up somewhere."

Oleg furrowed his thick brows and ran a hand across his head. He didn't expect his former superior to be so persistent in contacting the Saints. He had heard a rumor around town about the death of Viola's other half, Kiki. The woman's reasoning behind calling could be anything; the only way to find out is to call her back. If she was determined to get into contact with the Boss, it had to be urgent.

"Don't you think it's a little unprofessional to ignore her?" he suggested. Liz's sneer got a bit larger and she strode back over to Pierce again. The lieutenant perked up a bit from his slouched position and opened his mouth to speak.

"C'mon, Boss. You gotta clean up a little. It's not like we're in Stil-"

"I don't fucking care if we're not in Stilwater anymore! This is my goddamn gang and I'll run it how I see fit! And Oleg, I don't care how unprofessional I am; she's the whorish asshole that killed my best friend!"

The level of tension in the room was higher than during the chess matches. Liz clenched her fists harshly; turning her already porcelain colored knuckles a sickly white color. Pierce raised an eyebrow and took his feet down from the coffee table. This hadn't been the first time his mouth made the Boss snap, and each time he had done it he had instantly regretted it.

He turned and looked at Oleg, who seemed unfazed by the yelling. In turn, Oleg turned to look at Pierce. If anything, Pierce would know what to do better than he would.

"Boss…relax. You don't have to meet her if you don't want to." he said shakily. Talking to her was sometimes like talking to a five year old child. You never knew what you were going to get. It could be a good day or a bad day for her.

Liz closed her eyes and sighed deeply. A beer or a joint started to sound more and more appealing by the second as she made her way to one of the staircases that led to her personal room. Oleg took a step towards the staircase.

"All I ask is that you consider talking to her. She might have something that is worth your time." he said coolly. She turned around and looked at him without any hint of a happy expression.

"I'll consider it." she muttered. As she reached for her doorknob, an annoying ringtone played from her pocket. She paused and quickly removed the noisy object. Without even looking at the caller I.D, she answered it.

"What?"

"I wasn't expecting you to be so eager to answer my call this time." a familiar voice said. Liz nearly dropped the phone. She should have known that it would have been Viola. When she didn't respond, the other woman directed the conversation in a highly unlikely path.

"I'd like to meet…if you'd be willing to." she continued. Liz rolled her eyes and leaned up against her door.

"Over my dead body." Her response came out like a snake's hiss.

She could hear Viola sighing on the other line. Snarky responses weren't going to get her anywhere for much longer. "I already helped you wipe out the Morningstar's sex trade; doesn't that prove that I'm a woman of my word?" she asked.

That was a point Liz would never be able to deny. The tips Viola had given had proved to be invaluable to the Saints. Not even their footmen that roamed the streets of Steelport could have picked up something like that. For now, the Morningstar seemed to be leaving the Saints alone. With Loren and Kiki dead along with Viola betraying them, the jewel in the Syndicate crown had been crushed into tiny pieces.

The final blow wouldn't have been possible without Viola.

"I know a lot of people like you," Liz began. "People like you can go a long way to be fake bastards."

Pierce and Oleg looked on in silence. They knew exactly who the Boss was talking to. Oleg was pacing around the couch anxiously awaiting the outcome of the call. The Boss shook her head and let her hand wander down to her hip. She stood proudly against her door and slid her phone back in her pocket a minute later.

"What'd she want?" Pierce asked. He stood up and joined his comrade near the couch. Oleg stopped pacing and kept his place next to Pierce.

Liz opened the door to her room.

"Oleg, load your truck with some heavy firepower, we're going to meet Viola."

She didn't sound too happy about the matter, which concerned Pierce.

"Why you goin' to your room?" he asked. Liz scoffed.

"To change," she said. "I need to show a little more skin. I'm sure Ms. DeWynter needs something pretty to look at."

* * *

><p>Viola DeWynter sat herself on the edge of a decorated fountain in the Ashwood Park. After many professional phone calls, she had prepared herself to meet the notoriously less than professional leader of the Saints. She wasn't expecting much from the crime boss; the Saints were nothing like the Syndicate. The clean cut, respectable gang members she was use to were no more. If the proposition she was planning in her head went through with the Saints, she would have to acquaint herself with less than shabby street bangers who seemed to only be in it for the money.<p>

Her plan of attack to get on the Boss' side was easy. She hoped that the other woman was more approachable in person than she was on phone. If she was, then she'd pull out the contract she had typed the evening before. It outlined the issues of money, gang membership, and anything else a responsible woman would have to do before leaving a massive crime syndicate.

She stopped her thoughts for a moment and looked at the man that was standing next to her. He looked over at her and smiled. The man was holding a wooden acoustic guitar. He took care to strum it perfectly, causing beautiful Hispanic rhythms to seep out. A hint of a smile made it onto Viola's face and she reached into her pocket for some change. A few coins turned up and she threw them into the man's open guitar case.

"Gracias." he said with an even warmer smile. She nodded politely and lifted her head when she heard the sound of loud footsteps. The leader of the Saints and the Syndicate's former glorified pincushion approached her with grave looks on their faces. They didn't look like they wanted to negotiate.

The getup the taller woman was in made Viola cringe. A low cut tank top paired with shorts that barely covered her ass wasn't exactly what the dark haired woman would call classy, but now wasn't the time to reason about clothes. She turned and looked at the familiar man accompanying her. His outfit was much more acceptable; he had traded going nude for dark khakis and a sports jacket.

"I didn't think you'd be a patron of the arts, Viola." he said. She narrowed her eyes in response.

"You would've known if you weren't used as a science experiment." she retorted. Oleg stretched his facial muscles and glowered at the Syndicate member. Maybe Liz had been right; Viola might just be a waste of time.

"I don't think upsetting him would be a good idea." said Liz, who had just popped up from behind Oleg. The guitar melody playing in the background turned a little harsher and Viola put a hand on her hip.

"I'm not here for a goddamn fight. If we work together, we can both take out the Syndicate." she replied. The Boss took a step towards her enemy and sneered.

"Johnny's gone because you and Loren were a bunch of fuckin' assholes!" The guitarist abruptly stopped and rapidly began to pack his things to avoid the brawl that was about to go on.

"Johnny's dead because he thought he could do everything himself!" hollered Viola. Liz looked at her with a defeated face. She knew that Viola had in fact been right; Johnny was the one who insisted on taking on nearly a dozen guys on a plane single handedly. He also was the one who insisted that he could fly a plane back to Stilwater when he never learned to drive stick. His independent attitude was what had really gotten him killed; Viola just helped make it happen.

"Why the hell would you join us, anyway? You think there's something in it for you?" the leader asked quietly.

"I want to watch the Syndicate crumble under Killbane." she affirmed. Liz sighed and looked up at Oleg. If Viola could bring the same amount of success to the Saints as she did to the Syndicate, then there would be no reason to not trust her.

"Can you play nice?" Liz asked teasingly. Oleg nodded and turned his gaze back to Viola. Her eye contact shifted to a noise coming behind her before the giant man could say anything to her.

"What's that?"

Liz turned her attention to the loud buzzing noise coming from the other side of the park. It sounded something like a motor from one of the Bears that would zoom around in Stilwater if the Saints got into some deep shit.

She squinted and struggled to see across the park. After regretting forgetting to put in her contacts, she could see a small army of armored white vehicles hurdling towards them. They were nearly running over the civilians trying to enjoy the park with their massive tires. It didn't matter whether or not they were government issued or not; they needed to leave before they could find out.

"Not something we should stick around for." she responded. Without thinking, she ran to the closest building to the park: Technically Legal. Although it was a strip club, the loud music and the strippers would probably give them some time to get out and head back to the penthouse headquarters.

Viola and Oleg rapidly followed suit. Countless people were pushed out of the way of the three Saints. Even though the club was only a few hundred feet away, the anxiety made it feel like miles. Screams had shattered the perfect silence of the park, and now the newly mowed grass had been destroyed by the white vehicles. When they had finally reached the street, cars were swerving everywhere. Honks and shouts collided with gunshot and adrenaline as Liz pushed on with the crew. After almost being ran over by a taxi, she jumped over it and made a beeline to the back entrance to the strip club.

Viola turned and glanced at the vehicles. They looked like a cross between a jeep and a tank. "STAG" was printed on the side in huge black letters. She was the first to reach the door and began clawing at the handles with her manicured nails. She punched and cursed at the metal barriers when they refused to open.

"Damn it!" she screeched. The STAG vehicle had now reached the back alleyway. The gunman sitting at the top readied his ammo and waited with baited breath to open fire at the new targets. One word from the commander was the difference between life and death for these Saints.

Without hesitation, Oleg pushed Viola to the side and kicked down the doors with his strength. After an approving smirk from Liz, he stepped aside and motioned into the strip club.

"Ladies first." he said politely. The two women sprinted inside while Oleg closed the door just in time; more STAG vehicles had arrived and were opening fire on the club. Gunshots rang in from the outside, and once the threesome had reached the door to the main entertainment space things had already begun to get ugly. They could hear innocent men and strippers screaming in absolute fear.

"The front had better be clear!"

Liz turned to Viola and nodded before running off to the front. She readied her SMG and loaded it to full capacity. She hoped there were enough bullets; the amount of targets out there seemed unbearable. They also were wearing a full suit of armor from what she could fathom. She paused to catch her breath after running for what felt like days. She put her gun to the side and turned to look at her new ally.

"Any idea who those assholes were?" Viola shrugged and pulled a pistol out from inside her skirt.

"Definitely not from the Syndicate, Matt's too much of a coward and Killbane thinks his Luchadores can do everything themselves. Whoever they are they've got a hell of a lot more firepower than you do."

"They look like soldiers. I don't recognize their uniforms, but they're undoubtedly high tech." Oleg added. Liz narrowed her eyes and aimed her gun.

"Great, someone else wants us killed. Let's give these fuckers what's comin' to them."

She opened the door without hesitation and her vision was instantly clouded by the whiteness of flash bangs. The screams of the patrons and workers got increasingly louder once gunshot began to ring throughout the room. The soldiers had obviously infiltrated and hiding was no longer an option.

Oleg trudged through the madness and grabbed one of the white suited soldiers. He was armed with a riot shield and a laser rifle which were both virtually harmless against the giant man. The Russian slammed the man into the decorated wall near him before running to his next opponent.

Viola was having a more difficult time with the swarms of armed STAG members coming through. Her pistol could barely pierce through their heavy metal armor and fighting in a wool skirt was a lot more difficult than it had been before. Sweat ran down her cheek; the room had become ten degrees hotter from the rapid fire and the increased fluctuation of people. Carefully, she ducked behind couches and felt bullets just graze her side.

"Fuck it, we gotta get outta here!" Liz said. Viola turned around and shot her a glare.

"You're just realizing that that would be a good idea _now_?!" The former Syndicate member's glare got even worse as Liz began to run to a nearby door. She had heard a lot of good things about the woman, but she knew she couldn't forget the bad things. Being unprepared and using improv to get out of sticky situations isn't exactly the tactic of masters. She was supposedly a master of her trade.

Now was one of the moments where Viola wasn't so sure.

She watched as Oleg pushed open the metal doors that led to the roof and ran over as fast as she could. A grenade was following her midair and hit the floor the minute the double doors closed. The explosion rocked the building as the three of them trudged up the metal stairs leading to the roof.

"Aren't you going to call someone to get us?" the brunette asked. Liz opened the door to the roof and looked around. Sleek military planes that matched the jeeps on the ground buzzed across the room. There had to be at least fifty, and their source was obvious; a massive aircraft carrier had somehow plopped itself in the middle of the ocean nearby.

The planes were more modern than one could imagine. They were something out of a sci-fi or military movie; white, long sleek wings and a slim frame. Liz, Oleg and Viola looked up and stared at the terrifying monsters in shock.

"I shouldn't have left my RPG at home…" Liz mumbled. Before they could step any further, a larger and less compact model of the aircrafts landed near the roof. Out of them popped more of the STAG soldiers. They pulled out their laser rifles and mounted them in a unison firing position. It was sensory overload for Liz, who was looking in every which direction and taking in every sound.

"Look out for the snipers on the roof!" shouted Viola.

This was going to be one hell of a fight.

* * *

><p>So much was happening over the course of a few minutes. Soldiers were being dropped off via STAG aircrafts, yet a slightly smaller amount was being destroyed by the three Saints occupying the roof. They used all the firepower they had and ammo was depleting faster than they all would have liked.<p>

"Surrender now or more deadly force will be authorized!" shouted a commanding female voice. Liz turned and checked on Viola; she had decided to hotwire the elevator so they could make a grand escape. It was the only option for a getaway; jumping off the building would be too risky and nearly impossible with one parachute.

"How're you doing over there?" the Boss yelled. Viola turned around and gave her a disheartening look. They weren't making much progress despite Viola insisting that she would be able to get the elevator back in working order. Things were beginning to get grimmer for the threesome as Liz heard a ghastly yelp coming from Oleg's direction. He was barely standing up and had his fist on the ground in a defeated position.

"Oleg!" she yelled. She ran past plane debris to get to him, feeling bullets pass by her side. With all the strength she could muster, she helped him up. He paused for a moment and then pulled himself up.

"Thank you, friend." he said kindly. Using his hand for a visor, he looked up at the few remaining high tech ships flying in the air.

"It's working now! Let's get our asses out of here!"

The two Saints knew what Viola meant and made their way towards the elevator. Oleg grunted as bullets pierced his sides; he was already injured quite badly. One of the lasers of the ships had burned his chest and he had taken enough bullets to kill an average man. They all piled into the elevator and attempted to make the greatest escape the Saints had ever tried to make.

Suddenly, when they weren't expecting it, another ship approached the rooftop. It was close enough that they could read the text on the side: VTOL. The VTOL began to fire at them rapidly, and the elevator doors couldn't close fast enough. Before they did close, however, they were missing an important passenger.

Oleg had ran out unexpectedly and jumped towards the hovering ship, penetrating the glass cockpit. The screams of the pilot could be heard as the doors closed on him.

"Does he always do that?" asked Viola. Her hand was resting tiredly on her hip.

"I…I…fuck, I don't even know."

* * *

><p>The ride back to the Saints HQ was a less than comfortable one. After seeing that the only available car was a police car, the two women sped off into a high speed chase with the STAG soldiers. By the time they arrived back at the high rise, the car was in mere pieces. Saints were outside defending the place as they sped down into the underground garage for safety. They got out of the car, and Liz instinctively stepped into the elevator that led to upstairs.<p>

"I never remember the Morningstar stirring their shit like you do." Viola said after following her new Boss into the lift.

"Eh, we like to make things a little more difficult than they should be, I guess."

The former Syndicate member looked at the other woman atypically.

"And you always wear purple?" she continued. Liz nodded.

"Kind of like how you always wore red. You're gonna have to get some sort of purple on, sweetie." she said. Viola reached into her pocket as the elevator dinged at the top floor. They stepped out and Liz noticed that Viola's sunglasses had now changed to a familiar shade of purple.

"I always come prepared."

* * *

><p><strong>Ack, that wasn't a good action scene. I skipped some stuff on purpose but it ended up being long anyway. <em>Please review!<em>**


	17. Opprotunities

**Hope you enjoy the new chapter. Oh, and for those of you who haven't read it yet, I've wrote a little spinoff AU to this story called "You Know I'm No Good". I plan on updating it when I'm not updating this story so you guys can enjoy something. I'm planning to only have one or two more chapters of that up before it ends, so start reading it and look for updates on that story and this one! _PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! IT'S REALLY APPRECIATED~_**

* * *

><p>Liz slammed her car door and looked up at the large high rise she had just pulled up to. Its parking lot was more exclusive than she had thought; gates and guards were protecting the place like little attack dogs. After locking her doors, she made her way to the front entrance. She wasn't one for architecture, but she couldn't help but marvel at the modern detailing of the building. Reddish pink lights shone up against the metallic walls that seemed to go up into the clouds. Judging by the height of the building, it went up at least fifty stories. At least that's how big it <em>had <em>to be, because a certain woman she knew owned the whole fiftieth floor and actively lived in it.

That woman also happened to own the entire building, and her name was Viola DeWynter.

The Saints' leader strode through the revolving door and took a peek inside. The whole lobby was decked out in full Morningstar fashion just like the outside. Classy metal star decorations adorned the walls in all the right places, and the expansive room was covered with marble floors and red walls. Subtly pink carpets led to the front desk, where a girl with a Morningstar pin sat and answered phone calls. Liz wasn't surprised that the decoration of the place hadn't changed to purple; it would've been too big of a risk. Sending the Syndicate a message was supposed to be her job; _not_ Viola's.

Although it angered her to see the pink and red hues surrounding her, now was not the time to complain. She approached the desk and cleared her throat. The attendant didn't even put down the phone until Liz said something.

"Liz Monroe to see Viola DeWynter." she said with a scowl. Viola's name soon garnered the woman's attention and she looked up to see who she was dealing with. Usually only wealthy businessmen or Morningstar lieutenants came to visit the famous fiftieth floor, but the person in front of her was none of those things. Clad in purple heels, black skinny jeans, and a loose violet button down shirt, she stood and looked for an answer. Her purple ensemble seemed to clash with the secretary's cerise dress.

She held the phone against her shoulder to block out any of the conversation that could be heard. "And who _are_ you, anyway? Viola only takes certain guests who have appointments."

"Ever heard of the Saints?" Liz asked nonchalantly. The woman looked at her up and down again, and the visitor's purposed seemed a little too clear now.

"I'll buzz her and make sure she's ready." she said.

* * *

><p>Viola stared into her reflection with the ornate mirror in front of her. Ornate was actually a word that would describe the whole bathroom; dark wood and white granite covered the immense space that was also decorated with Morningstar accessories. The small bits of pink gave her comfort and, in a very reassuring way, reminded her of Kiki.<p>

She uttered a small sigh and parted her lips to apply her lipstick. After smearing the scarlet color onto her lips, she threw her hair into her usual ponytail and walked towards the double doors leading to her closet.

After throwing the doors open, she made her way over to a small drawer to put the final touch on her outfit: her metal belt.

The closet was only half as big as the bathroom, but it was equally as luxurious. It matched the adjacent room perfectly, and it was filled with clothes from floor to ceiling.

Or, at least half of the room was.

The other half had been filled with Kiki's clothes before her untimely demise.

Now, that side of the room was bare; the shelves held absolutely nothing and the racks only had wiry hangers on them. It symbolized something terrible for the remaining DeWynter; something that she would never speak about to anyone.

Viola stared down into the drawer after putting on her favorite accessory. There was one other object occupying the small box. It was a chain identical to hers, with the exception of a few imperfections. Miniscule scratches and dents marked the belt in places only Viola would be able to identify.

The belt wasn't just a copy of hers. Like the barren side of the room, it was one of the few memories she kept of her late sister. Everything else had been hidden away somewhere. Photos, clothing, and other memories had been fused into her brain.

The death of her only sister had changed Viola into a person she never thought she would become. She used to be a bright young art dealer who, along with her sibling, was unstoppable. Now, she was a walking façade of hatred and envy towards the Syndicate. She shoved the drawer back into place and walked out into her bedroom, then proceeded into the main living space where she heard the telephone ringing.

"Hello?" she answered monotonously. She checked the clock on the wall and sighed. Why she had made an appointment this early was a mystery to her, but she had been expecting her associate to be a little later than expected. Expecting the leader of the Saints to be up, ready, and at her destination by eight thirty in the morning was setting the bar a little too high in her opinon. Viola hoped the meeting would be brief and to the point.

"Your, uhm, boss is here." the secretary said. Viola grunted in response.

"Send her up."

The phone clicked, signaling that Liz had been granted permission to visit the top floor. Within minutes, the elevator dinged up to Viola's residence and a tall woman stepped out. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor, and she hesitated to take off her aviator shades. The glasses hid tired eyes with lids that were frosted by makeup. After tucking the accessory into her shirt pocket, she strode over to Viola with a smirk.

"You need better help down there, honey. The girl you've got is a little too bitchy for my taste" she teased. Viola grunted and crossed her arms.

"Don't think I'm going to start calling you boss. Besides, bosses don't dress so…casually." the older woman replied. She had on a sweater dress similar to the one the girl downstairs had, except hers was a much more bleak color. The dark gray color did a lot for her curves, but it lacked color or any kind of expression. Liz rolled her eyes and sat down on Viola's plush cashmere sofa. She crossed her legs, making the keys in her pocket to jingle loudly. Viola sat down in the chair beside her and put her arms back into their previous position.

"I'll give you credit for getting up here this early, though." she continued.

"Whatever, I didn't sleep last night. Can't we just get this business shit done? I've gotta go meet up with Pierce."

Viola frowned. She suddenly wasn't expecting to make much progress during this meeting.

"Look, let's cut to the chase, this is intel, not business. I've got something for you that might give you the opportunity you need to get Killbane." she said boldly. Liz raised an eyebrow.

"Keep talking." she said.

"He's going to be on a radio broadcast sometime this week. He mentioned something about it a while back. If you can get to him without blowing it, you might have a great opportunity ahead of you."

"So you're suggesting that I plan some sort of assassination attempt?" Liz asked jokingly. It wasn't something she wasn't familiar with. She closed her eyes for a moment and recalled the time she went after Dane Vogel with Johnny back in Stilwater. It hadn't gone as she had planned it all. In fact, she ended up crashing a plane into the Ultor tower.

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" Viola answered. She was acting like it wasn't going to be a big undertaking.

"Besides," she continued. "Don't you kill people every day?"

Liz ignored the statement. "I need an exact time in place. If you think I'm getting my ass involved in shit like that without a plan you're crazy."

Viola drummed her fingers on the skirt of her wool dress. "That's the only problem; Killbane never gave an exact time or place. I called that Kinzie chick and told her to look out for details. She said she'd look into it."

Liz stood up and gave Viola a fierce look before pulling out her shades again. She hadn't been expecting something so vague from the former Morningstar, but it was better than nothing.

"Then I guess Kinzie will get back to me on that, won't she?" she asked. She stood up and made her way to the elevator.

"I gotta go; I've got things to do. Why don't you go run down to Safeword or something and be useful? I'm sure your clients would _love_ if you would give them a personal visit." she persisted rudely. Viola shot up from her seat and strode over to Liz before she could reach the elevator. Being treated badly by Killbane had been bad enough, and it wasn't about to happen to her again. She grabbed Liz by the sleeve of her shirt and leaned into her slightly.

"If you think I'm your fucking slave in your little plan, you're wrong. I can go right back to the Morningstar any second, so I'm expecting respect from you. If you give me some I'll _consider_ giving you some in return. Can't you be a rational businesswoman instead of an asshole?" Viola's tone had turned sour very quickly. Liz snatched her arm back, and, as much as she hated to admit it, Viola was right.

"Respect is something you earn from me, and if you think I actually forgive you for what happened to Johnny, you're dead wrong." the Boss said seriously. Viola scoffed and went back into the depths of her posh penthouse.

"Call me when you're done acting like a baby." she hissed.

Liz chuckled and stepped into the doors of the elevator. She put on her glasses and gave Viola a sarcastic smile.

"Whatever you say, sweetie."

* * *

><p><em>Johnny's phone vibrated in his pocket as he steadied his aim. He averted his gaze from the sight of his sniper and took his cell phone out and answered it.<em>

"_You in position Johnny?" a familiar voice asked._

_The final pieces of the puzzle were all coming together. Shortly after the Brotherhood defeat party, the whole crew had came together to take down the last thing standing in their way. Ultor's control over Stilwater was increasing at a faster pace than the Saints would have liked. Instead of taking a much deserved break, the time for action had been now._

_Too much shit had happened that prompted the situation Gat was in currently. The Masako's nightclub assault on Liz, the Pyramid raid, the Ultor yacht explosion; they were all moves in their plan. She had told Johnny the other night that she had everything mapped out to a T. It was unlike her to not act spontaneously and actually plan out her actions, but this was a well thought out exception._

_This plan led to where Johnny was now; on top of an apartment building with a sniper overlooking Dane Vogel's personal press conference. The Boss' arrangement was undoubtedly bold and risky, and one wrong move could get them both killed._

_It was time to assassinate the new chairman of Ultor._

"_Hell yeah, give that motherfucker what's coming to him." he replied. The conversation was brief after that, and after they hung up Johnny loaded the large gun promptly. He changed into a prone pose once again and resumed his duty as Liz's guardian angel._

_The plan they had discussed appeared simple at first glance; Liz snuck in and tried to shoot the Ultor guys, and if she couldn't do it Johnny was to snipe Vogel in the head and clear out the rest of the guards so she could make a smooth getaway._

_However, under its mask of simplicity, the plan was much more in depth. Saints were scattered around the press conference keeping a close eye on the Boss. Each one was armed with an SMG, and if something was to go wrong, they would also go after Vogel._

_Johnny turned the gun so he could see the target's position. At least ten guards were surrounding him on a podium which was surrounded by a crowd of eager reporters. Civilians cheered in the background as he began to make his speech._

"_Unfortunately, we cannot mourn the recent loss of our board of directors here at Ultor. It's a terrible thing, and we just don't have the luxury of being able to grieve. We've got a company to run and a city to improve, and to do that our corporate board has just named me the new chairman of the company. I'd like to personally reassure you that everything will remain as normal as possible, and the revitalization of Shivington has been approved by the gracious Monica Hughes." _

_Vogel's little rally was going on longer than expected. Gat shifted his gaze through the scope and looked at the Boss. Slowly but surely she was making her way to the podium. A minute later she was as close as she could get. While hiding behind a news van, she looked up at Gat and gave him a swift thumbs up. He nodded back although she couldn't see and turned the crosshairs of the scope onto the head of Dane Vogel._

_Little did Johnny know that he was no longer alone on the rooftop. Small booted footsteps inched closer to him every second._

_If he had looked behind him, he would have seen a very nervous looking Ultor security guard. The man had to be in his forties, and he was sweating a little too much. He knew exactly who he was dealing with, and the thought of being the one to arrest or even kill the famous Johnny Gat was exhilarating but nonetheless terrifying. Reports of a strange man on an apartment rooftop had been circling around the crowd, and the security team had been taking no risks. They were counting on him to eliminate the possible threat, and now could be his time to shine. He pushed his Ultor brand baseball cap further down onto his head and pounced onto the famous gangbanger._

_The sound of a lone sniper bullet rang haphazardly through the crowd, and screams followed suit. Everyone was directing their emotions to the rooftop, where Johnny Gat was wrestling with the poor security guard. Liz bit down hard on her bottom lip and began to taste blood; sticking to the plan wasn't going to work anymore._

_Another bullet sound rang out, and a foot collided with the chest of the guard. His body fell down from the tall building and landed on the ground with a sickening thud. The Boss breathed a sigh of relief and began improvising._

_Security guards were quickly escorting Vogel away, making Liz's chance of getting him second to none. She fired her pistol as fast as she could, hitting random guards that were stepping in front of her. The disguised Saints soon emerged from outside the crowd, and more bullets rained down onto the guards. As soon as Liz had a spare second, she glimpsed to Johnny's position to see that he had reloaded and had reassumed his position as her protector. _

_Bullets grazed her side as she dived out of the way. The podium was the only thing saving her at the moment, and its wood structure was rapidly being torn away. Without looking up, she fired again and barely hit some of the guards. She prayed that Johnny would have her back like he always did._

_The third sniper bullet went billowing down onto the stage, hitting a guard right in the chest. He cried out in pain and fell down. Liz smiled to herself and looked up. Only two guards remained, but Vogel was quickly making his way to the stretch limo waiting for him. The Boss scrambled up, and after a few more snipes, a clear path to Vogel was ten feet in front of her._

_She lunged for his limo, and as he stepped in the two locked eyes when she was at the top of the stairs. Dane looked like a deer in headlights and closed the door to avoid looking at his assassin. The limo's engine began to rev, and just as it began to move Liz did the unthinkable._

_She dove for the top of the limo, thinking that she could break the glass of the sunroof and climb in. As she soared through the air, Johnny watched with bated breath and stood up to get a better view of the scene._

_After realizing who had latched into the roof, Vogel yelled at the limo driver to floor it. The vehicle soon swerved out of control, sending Liz down onto the curb and right into the bottom of a stop sign._

* * *

><p>Liz stepped back into her car and began the short drive home to the HQ. When she had left early that morning, Pierce and Oleg were fast asleep on the couch. They had stayed up all night playing chess, much to everyone else's annoyance. The Saint pulled out her phone and dialed Pierce's number. If he was the same man he had always been he'd be in the same position she had left him in.<p>

The phone rang five times before the lieutenant picked up. He sounded like he was either hit by a truck or completely hung over.

"Yeah Boss?" he asked lazily.

"Pierce, you think this whole STAG thing is going to compromise the HQ?" she asked. She could hear him groaning and trying to sit up.

"Uh, yeah, totally agree with you. I'll get on that." he mumbled.

"We should talk about this in person. Have you planned out anything yet?" she continued.

"Yeah…"

Liz sighed. "Alright, then what have you got for me?"

"Dunno…come to the HQ and we can talk there."

"Damn it, Pierce! I'll be over in a bit."


	18. Hello World

**Well, the first thing I'd like to say is "****_hi._****"**

**I know I've done this before.**

**I know it's stupid.**

**But I wanted to let people know that I'm really sorry for not updating this. This is an honest apology; I don't want to be too blunt, but a lot has changed.**

**Liz isn't the character she used to be at all. After all of these months, she's molded and changed into something so much more than what I can express in words. I put a lot of thought into making her, and after reading over what I've written in this it pains me to see that she's so much different. She's definitely changed for the better now. I must thank my amazing best friend for roleplaying with me, which allowed me to develop her as a character on a level that I never expected.**

**She's almost kind of an enigma now; that's the only way I can seem to describe it.**

**I don't want to say that this story is done. There's so much left I want to write. I want to break from the mold and do something different. I've gotten so far and this story still gets an amazing number of hits. I'm grateful for this in ways that are unexplainable. **

**Please, if I still have any readers, give me as much feedback as you can in the coming weeks. I want to hear what you have to say or what you want to see from me, Liz, or anything else pertaining to ****Smoke in Mirrors**** (and all of the side stories).**

_**I may break from said mold and do something that not even I'm expecting out of myself. **_


End file.
